Stranger Storms Part 2
by Mahros
Summary: Chloe, Max, their adopted daughter and a local programmer continue their struggle to survive in a hostile building in a hostile world. Moderate swearing and violence.


**PART TWO - TELKIA**

ONE

Emma Price-Caulfield had never hated anyone before. There had been raiders, people who had committed terrible crimes but they had always seemed other than human. Almost always heavily garbed, it was difficult to see them as people and she had only ever witnessed the grim aftermath.

Scarrow had tortured her mom. He was staring at the landscape beyond her, his nose clearly broken and clogged with tissue paper to soak the blood. The man looked a mess, with his beard matted and more drying blood on his dark clothing.

"Osira, look after Max-mom a moment," Emma requested and the soft-int specialist gently took hold of her mother.

"Em…" Max said and Emma looked at her. Max's steel blue eyes looked tired, red-rimmed and the skin around them dark. Yet they held Emma's gaze steadily. Whatever Max had been about to say, instead she just gave a slight nod and Emma turned back to Scarrow, who frowned at her in annoyance.

"You had better run," Emma said quietly. As expected, he sneered, deigning to look at her instead of the land beyond and opened his mouth to speak. Which was when she head-butted him.

Scarrow fell as though pole-axed and, in that moment, she did not care if he was alive.

Bright Horizons staff stepped back from the violence as more blood gushed from the man's ruined nose. Warden guards made to strike her and Obix intercepted them, throwing them to the ground with ease. Emma carefully took care of Max-mom back from Osira, who was looking at Obix with consternation. The Warden people had finally realized they were not easily going to subdue the mech and one stepped forward.

A man in his late twenties, tall, Latin-American and athletic but flexing his arm from where Obix had twisted it while hurling him to the floor.

"Look, I don't know what the fuck is going on but Scarrow needs medical attention," he said and Emma shrugged, turning her back on him to take Max-mom to one of the reception seats.

"Are you alright?" Max-mom asked, concern clear in her expression.

"That hurt more than I thought," Emma replied, smiling to reassure her. In truth, the rage that burned in her felt both righteous and frightening. She had been held back while the Warden people submerged Chloe-mom, the person who had always protected and loved her. Again and again and again, unable to stop it. Each time not knowing if her mom would take another breath and desperate to reach her but held back.

"Emma," Max-mom said, not deflected by her response.

"I will never forgive them, Max-mom," Emma stated.

"Me neither," Max-mom said, softly and hugged her.

Chloe-mom strode across and sat on the low table in front of them, waving for Osira and Obix to join them. The soft-int specialist looked far from happy, the mech had his normal raised-eyebrow expression, as though waiting to help someone. Emma did not want to consider what would have happened if Obix had not rescued them.

Behind them the room had become even busier as people from different floors joined those already there. Emma recognized one or two of the researchers from below, including the man she had been speaking to near the machine before the Warden people drugged her. He saw her, blushed and then avoided her gaze.

Chloe's blue hair was still plastered to her face. There was a briskness to her that Emma had rarely seen.

"OK, team," Chloe started, "first the good bits: thanks to Obix, we are free. Also, we have successfully got Osira and Obix back to their home or a place that looks a lot like it. Better still, we have shelter from the radiation."

Osira's mouth opened with a horrified expression at understanding that had everything gone to plan she could have popped into the desert without any protection from the radiation.

"Now, the not-so-good bits. Pretty obvious but: we are also here. This whole building including many of its staff are also here.

"Finally, the shit bit. We have no power to get the machine running to take anyone home from a landscape that gives out cancer like candy at Halloween."

"Just how bad is it?" Max asked, resting against Emma. "Is jumping in a car and flooring it until we reach a settlement feasible?"

"No," Chloe stated, shaking her head, but then looked at Osira, who blinked her eyes from being lost in thought.

"It's not a case of 'spend an hour outside and then you get cancer'," Osira explained. "Different areas are more or less irradiated and storms can sweep highly radioactive particles up from one place and hit another with them. Different people will succumb at different times and the affects take time to appear."

"Added to which, we don't know where we are," Chloe added.

"So, 'no', then," Max said.

"The vehicles are completely unshielded," Osira added. "Any vehicle from Telkia designed for outside would have lead lining and radiation sinks. I would not want to risk sitting in one of those without protection even for a short time."

"Very 'no', then," Max commented.

"Do we try to save the Horizons… people?" Emma's mom asked. Max looked at her askance but Emma gave the matter hard consideration.

"We vote," Chloe added. "Mine is 'no'. Emma?"

"Yes," she said, heavily.

"Max?"

"Yes…" Max-mom voted then apparently deciding against justifying the decision.

"Oz?"

"No," she responded calmly and Emma nodded respect for Osira choosing the sensible yet harder option.

"Two all. Obe?"

Osira was about to object but then looked at Obix as though scared of what the mech might answer.

"Yes," he declared and Osira was visibly relieved.

"We have to let them decide to do what we say or go their own way," Emma stated. They would argue, debate and suggest other options, which could easily prove fatal. Yet it was not the fault of the majority of the staff that they were now stuck on Telkia.

The receptionist who had greeted Chloe the previous day hesitantly came across. She had probably arrived to start the day, another shift on the front counter much like any other. The woman had long, plaited brown hair and probably pretty beneath enough makeup to count as art. Smartly dressed in a mid-length skirted suit, Emma felt ragged in comparison yet, as Chloe-mom had said, they were in Telkia now. She might not have wanted to return but had purpose here lacking in that other, frustratingly almost-familiar world.

"We're… scared," the receptionist said and Emma looked beyond her to the milling people, now up to forty or so. The Warden guards were in their own cluster around Scarrow. Someone had found a first-aid kit and were doing their best to bandage their leader's shattered nose, indicating he was alive.

"Obix, we need you to make the run," Chloe told the mech. "Will you?"

"Of course, Mistress Chloe," Obix stated with accustomed equanimity.

"Max, if we can get the machine working, are you up to trying to send them back?"

Max-mom nodded.

"Perhaps not today, though," she said. Her voice was hoarse and drowsy.

"Osira, go to the highest floor you can and scan the area. See if there's anything familiar or whether your implants can determine our location," Chloe-mom directed. "We need Obix here but if there's a researcher you think you can trust, take them with you. Try to never be alone."

Osira nodded and made her way through the crowd to the stairs, picking a young man to go with her and gaining two other scientists as well, all bombarding her with questions. Only then did Chloe-mom look at the receptionist hovering a few feet behind.

"What's your name?"

"Kathleen. O 'Daugherty." She was clasping her hands as though it was the only thing keeping her from panicking.

"Kath? Outside is irradiated…" Chloe told her and the woman looked torn between disbelief and horror, turning from Chloe to the view out of the window as though expecting to be told 'just joking'.

"Kath, please warn anyone who wants to go out into it," Chloe continued.

O 'Daugherty gave a short, frightened bob of her head, then turned.

"Do you want me to stop them?" she checked.

"It's like the Darwin Awards," Chloe replied, confusing Emma. "If you tell someone that an area is radioactive and they still want to go and play in it, then it's not your fault when they get sick."

"Mom," Emma said quietly. "They're scared and this isn't their fault. Max-mom and I love you."

Chloe-mom looked at her and some of the anger left, even managing a faint smile.

"I know, hun," Chloe-mom said. "But you're right: they are going to try to kill themselves and I'm not going to let them take us with them."

Emma observed as Chloe strode over to the reception counter, the employees parting and the Warden guards watching an enemy. She climbed up to address those assembled: T-shirt still damp, hair barely less so, dark rings under her eyes.

"You have lots of questions but you'll need to keep them among yourselves," she started and held up her hand. "The situation is this: we are now all in Telkia. The only things that can be confirmed are:

"One: it's irradiated to fuck. Two: its Earth in important ways like gravity, one sun, one moon, there's water and so on. Three: in places it's technologically advanced of what you know, in others, it makes the Stone Age look Harvard educated. Four: even ignoring 'one' it would be dangerous.

"So, you're all going to want to go home. Well, we need electricity and, unless there's a power station I haven't noticed, that's not happening soon. Larry, you're in charge of food…"

"Aber? He's just a security guard," a portly man objected. "And what gives you the right to make decisions for all of us?"

That opened the floodgates and everyone was speaking. Needing to get back to their families, pick the kids up, arguing about seniority, it was all a joke or illusion or con, of course the land outside was not radioactive, would they be getting overtime pay, they had brought lunch so it was theirs…

Emma watched Chloe-mom put her fingers to her mouth and give a piercing whistle, silencing them.

"We're going to have two groups," she declared. "Those who are going to follow what I say and those who aren't. Before you decide, know that if you follow me you have a slight chance of getting home. If you don't, you have zero. I can't… I won't try to persuade you."

Chloe hopped off the counter and rejoined Emma and Max at the table, leaving the employees to argue.

"Grief, I am tired," she declared. She waved Aber over, who gratefully left a group of people who were giving him a stream of incoherent orders. "Emma, Larry, smash open any vending machines. Stash as much food as you can somewhere safe. Get as much as you can. See what you can do about water as well: we need to save as much as possible. We're going to need somewhere to sleep: I can barely think straight.

"Oh, and ablutions. If anyone joins us, they need to stop the toilets being used."

"And the other group?" Emma queried. "They won't accept any of this."

"Despite what I said, I'm hoping they will all accept we are their only chance," Chloe said, sitting the other side of Max, who had fallen asleep. "If they don't… well, we'll sort that out when we see numbers. We need one of those 4 by 4s for Obix. This is so… not what I wanted."

"We'll check for weapons too," Emma said and Chloe nodded, gently easing Max to rest against her.

Emma stood. It could be difficult at times being Chloe's daughter as her mom seemed able to do almost anything and then be dismissive of it. Able to fix vehicles - 'just what your grandpa taught me. I wish you could have met him'. Boosting crop yields: 'the old M-J isn't good enough for Chloe-mom anymore but I guess we could apply it to wheat and barley too.' Or charming people, as with a boy from the Free People of Telkia settlement a year ago who came to date her and ended up sharing a joint and laughing with Chloe-mom into the night. Now, there was no-one she would rather have present and seeing Chloe-mom and Max-mom, tired but together, gave her warmth and hope. Max even had a faint smile on her lips.

"Oh, and if you find any weed…" Chloe smiled, looking more like Emma was used to.

"After this day? I'll try to save you some," she teased her and Chloe grinned back.

People attempted to stop her, demanding answers or blaming her.

"You cannot do this to us," one woman said. "I will sue you for this."

"Come on, the joke's up: where's the cameras?" a man demanded. She walked past him and he grabbed her arm. She stared at him. "This is not funny. I told you: I'm onto the game."

"If you do not let me go, I will break your arm," Emma responded and he released her. She was not much of a fighter but everyone in Cowl's camp went through some basic self-defense against marauding animals or humans. An overweight, middle-aged office worker was far below what she had been trained to face but violence was a last resort and would only increase panic. The man turned to Aber instead.

"You, you're security. Make them stop this."

"I think this is real," Larry said. "I believe what the Chloe woman said, anyway."

"My husband will be angry if I don't have dinner ready," a woman of about thirty fretted and Emma was tempted to tell her that she was better off in Telkia but engaging with them was a waste of time. Their refusal to accept the situation was as understandable as it was annoying.

Then she was past the crowd and took the stairs up with a sense of relief.

"I didn't need to buy gym membership," Larry said behind her, flicking the torch on.

"Save the power cells for when we really need them," Emma told him. The stairwell had emergency lights that were evidently independent of the main power.

"Oh, yes, of course," he said. "You really think we'll be here that long?"

Emma reflected for a moment as they went up to the first floor. The main concern was staying alive. That would prove incredibly difficult. Getting the machine powered was not going to happen soon.

"Yes," she answered.

They opened the fire door to the first level. Lots of empty desks and blank monitored computers. Some smart glasses lying about. Aber started checking drawers.

"Larry, what are we going to eat tomorrow?" she asked him and he looked at her blankly. Emma was on the verge of spelling it out for him when he nodded. Aber appeared about to say something but then a worried expression came to his face and he went to a water cooler. Emma nearly asked if the water was clean before remembering that most things from Earth would be.

"Good," she said. Gallons of fresh water. Despite the building, her mind was already back to thinking of what was valuable in Telkia. "We need to move it. We need somewhere to stash it. Is there somewhere lockable? Or not easily locatable at least."

"You need Brock. He's building maintenance but would have gone home by now," Larry said, unhelpfully and scratched his head. "I have the keys to the closets for the cleaning robots at my desk."

He took a deep breath and declared: "I'll go," albeit with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

"We don't split up," Emma said. Normally, within the camp, Chloe-mom or Cowl would make decisions - or Cowl would make decisions Chloe had suggested - and when hunting she would often be alone or with someone as adept as her. Larry, despite being her moms' age, seemed content to let her lead.

"Do you know two people who can help us?" she asked.

"No, they would have… oh, there's Ken who covers sub 1 but he's weird," Larry replied, which did not tell Emma much.

"If he can help, he's in," she decided. Chloe-mom had often just gone off instinct but if her mother was uncertain, she would sometimes ask 'what would Max-mom do?' It was among Emma's earliest memories, Chloe-mom looking at her and rhetorically asking before Emma even really knew what a 'Max-mom' was. Emma was going with 'what would Chloe-mom do?' even if then discarding the answer when it was likely to be 'sit back, smoke pot and let things sort themselves'.

"Back downstairs," Emma stated.

"I'll wait here. The keys are in the top left drawer," Larry told her.

"Larry, I need you with me," she said. It was true but Larry also needed her with him, if something went wrong. The security guard seemed to stand taller.

"Of course, I'll protect you," he declared. Emma turned her head so he would not see her roll her eyes.

They traipsed down the stairs to the lobby where there was a cacophony of noise and the man who had accosted her had even gone outside, waving his arms to show he was fine. It enabled Emma and Larry to get through the near-panicking people to the researcher she had spoken with at length in B303. Her opinion of him had plummeted after he had done nothing beyond verbally objecting to Chloe-mom being repeatedly half-drowned and then followed Jackie Fitzpatrick's instruction to record what the machine was doing. Still, he was one of the few people in the building she knew.

"Ismail, have you decided?" she asked him and he blushed, looking uncomfortable. He had been watching the man outside, who was striding across the car park to see what he could determine of their location.

"Decided? Oh. With you, of course," he said, less than convincingly.

"Even knowing it will put you against your companions?" Emma checked.

"Yes," he nodded after again studying the man beyond the doors. There was no sign of him suffering any problems and he was now at the crumbled edge of the car park.

"Then I need to put you to work," Emma declared and he peered at her as though expecting a joke. "We are gathering supplies. First stage is to find Ken downstairs."

Ismail looked around as though about to object or check on others opinions but then nodded.

"Chloe sent me to help?" the receptionist queried, coming over to join them. "She said to get blankets and coats but I don't think we have either."

"Kathleen? Go with Ismail upstairs and start gathering the fresh water and food," Emma instructed them.

"But I thought… we would…" Ismail objected and Emma looked at him. Whatever expression was on her face had him nodding and heading off, beckoning for Kathleen to follow.

"And think what can be used for protection," she called after him. "Anything that can soak radiation."

Those who heard frowned at her, some shaking their heads. One or two pointed to the man outside.

"They're just scared," Larry said once back in the stairwell, heading down. "I'm scared," he added quietly.

Emma knew he was looking for comfort but felt like the employees were dead and trying to save them would get her killed too.

"I can only give you one guarantee, Larry," she said while walking down. "Your best and maybe only chance is with us." The emergency lighting had come on below now as well, giving enough light to see the steps. The fire door shut out most of the noise and there was creaking in the building. She just hoped it did not collapse completely.

"So… Chloe and the other woman?" he said, turning it into a question, perhaps wanting to distract himself from other thoughts but Emma found it inane under the circumstances.

"Max. My moms," she confirmed and opened the door to sub-level one. He at least kept any disappointment to himself.

Ahead was another desk with a guard in the same pale blue-grey uniform Larry wore. Ken was tall, thin and with slightly bulbous eyes, giving him a startled expression. Uneven features, big ears and a strong nose over hardly any chin added to his disorderly appearance.

"ID please," Ken said.

"It's me, Ken," Larry sighed.

"Who's she? Where's your ID?" Ken asked.

"There's been a… disaster," Larry explained. "We have to prepare…"

"I knew it!" Ken leapt up, catching them both by surprise. "It was the government. I always knew. Didn't I tell you?"

"We have to get Larry's keys and get into the mech… robot areas to stash supplies," Emma explained.

"Oh, yes! I have a set here. Are the rest dead?" Ken asked hopefully while Larry seemed to deflate with relief at not having to go down and then up two more levels.

"No but don't go outside," Emma told him while wondering whether he was exactly who they needed or the complete opposite.

"I can't get my guns from home?" he checked.

"Your home isn't there," Emma explained.

"Of course," Ken nodded, sounding oddly pleased, spinning the keys on one finger. So, they made their way back up, past the ground level and to the first floor, returning to the office spaces. The empty desks, chairs and dead monitors remained where Emma had seen them, as she had expected, but so was the water cooler.

"Ismail? Kathleen?" she called. Sounds from below came up through the floor but her voice still had a slight echo.

"In here," Ismail responded from a large office. Emma, trailed by the two security men, joined him, finding Ismail and Kathleen staring out of a window.

"Hey, Kathleen," Ken greeted the receptionist, drawing out the name.

"Hi, Ken," she responded distractedly but with an undercurrent of displeasure.

"Oh, it's true!" Ken said, happily, staring out the window. It gave little more elevation than the ground level but the desert stretched to the horizon without interruption. Emma had seen the hundreds of pale plants burst into verdant life early each spring, many with small red and yellow flowers. Soon after, swarms of tiny bees would descend on them. It was the one time in the year Cowl's encampment could trade for honey. Within a week, the desert was back to as it currently appeared out of the window.

"It's… true," Ken repeated, uncertainly.

"We need supplies gathered," Emma reminded them. "Come on. And don't get used to being close to the glass. Ken!" The others had reluctantly started moving but he was still staring out of the window. He stared at her with his bulbous eyes.

"I didn't mean for _this_," he said. "Please, don't tell the others."

Emma was nonplussed but whatever he was thinking was irrelevant.

"Get the doors opened. We need to save people," she told him and he nodded. "What can we use for radiation protection?" she checked.

"The above ground ceilings have fire retardant fibers. Would that do?" he queried.

"Everything I've heard says it needs to be solid," Emma told him. "If we have nothing better, the tiles might do." She found Ismail and Kathleen looking at a vending machine.

"I don't know about this," Ismail said. "We're stealing."

"Don't you understand?" Emma responded, frustration, fear and tiredness getting the better of her. "What are you going to eat? And tomorrow? The day after that? There are probably fifty people in this building and they are probably going to want to eat everything at the first meal time.

"Break it open. Find everything you can."

It was Ken who started by swinging a chair at the vending machine, although without effect, beyond rebounding and nearly hitting him. Emma wondered if it was too late to change her vote.

TWO

Speech and instructions given, Chloe felt exhaustion catch up with her as though the longer she had tried to fend it off the stronger it had become. Now, sat with Max asleep against her, that weariness swept in. She rested her head against the top of Max's; her love's hair against Chloe's cheek. It was so easy to believe everything would be alright with Max by her, feeling the woman's warmth and slight movement from breathing. Yet all Chloe had to do was turn away and look outside to know that their lives were on a shaking tightrope.

"Let me out!" a man ordered and Chloe peered at the portly man who had objected to her requisitioning Larry the Guard. He was addressing O' Daugherty, who looked at Chloe. How had she become leader? If there was one thing that was not her, it was leading. Sitting and teasing with Emma? Yes. Talking shit and making out with Max? Yes. Leading a bunch of frightened, disbelieving employees on a world barely habitable for humans?

Apparently, that too.

"Name?" she sighed.

"Norman Bortz, director of this branch of Bright Horizons," he responded, chin in the air while staring down at her and hands on hips. Chloe thought he looked like a picture of another posturing, pudgy fascist she had once seen.

"Well, Norm," Chloe said, reluctantly lifting her head from resting on Max's, "I have told you that fire is hot. You want to go and dance in the flames, I won't stop you."

He smiled triumphantly and Chloe remembered arriving with Emma for the first time in Telkia, fortunately inside a city dome. She had tried to learn everything possible and make herself useful while protecting a three-year old child. Those present in the building appeared hell-bent on remaining ignorant and being suicidal.

Norman hesitated at the door as Kathleen stepped away, not meeting the eyes of someone she thought still determined her destiny. The director looked at Chloe.

"What are you trying to prove?" Chloe asked. Even as she said it, with the others present watching and listening, Chloe knew it was the wrong tact. "You gain nothing and risk your life."

For some reason, he took it as validation of his distrust of her and went outside. This move was hindered by the electric doors not opening but Norman forced them apart, leaning into the effort like he was a warrior entering a gated castle. Once the director strode beyond the doors, Kathleen closed them without being instructed and, Chloe felt, less melodrama.

"Please join my daughter and Larry, tell them we need padding, whatever you can find," Chloe told the receptionist. Kathleen hurried away, perhaps glad to be away from her boss and undecided colleagues. She was briefly stopped by the other receptionist Chloe remembered from arriving there, questioned and turned to look at Norman Bortz then Chloe.

"I trust her," Kathleen declared, loudly enough for several to hear.

Many of the Bright Horizons employees shuffled forward to watch their boss.

"Any of you Brainiacs want to explain to the rest how radiation works?" Chloe queried.

"If its ionizing gamma radiation, depending on the dosage, it will take a while to manifest," a man in his thirties told Chloe and she waved to indicate it was not her he needed to inform. Several were nodding, however. "If he is irradiated with gamma rays," the man glanced at Chloe who met his gaze flatly, "then he won't be a danger to us on his return. Unless this area is highly irradiated or recently hit, he won't keel over suddenly."

Their attention returned to the director striding to the edge of the car park, turning to stare at those too cowardly to join him - or maybe wanting any danger shared - and then onto the desert. For a moment, Chloe could picture him rolling in the dirt to prove it was safe but, of course, even he was not actually going to do that. Instead, in dark business suit and shoes, he continued on to the brow of a rise.

Jackie Fitzpatrick joined them. Chloe had wondered when she would appear and recalled the woman objecting to the waterboarding as though it was a pay imbalance. This is wrong. But, still, it is for something I want to know, so, protest lodged and back to work. Fitzpatrick walked over to Chloe and Max, checking first that Obix was not going to stop her. The mech looked for all the world like he was a cheerful doorman. The scientist stopped and stared outside.

"What have you done?" she managed.

"Ask me that again," Chloe growled.

Fitzpatrick turned to her but then walked up to the glass.

"According to her, it's irradiated out there," the man who had explained the effects said.

"Then what is Director Bortz doing?" she asked.

"Proving it isn't," the man replied.

Fitzpatrick stared at him, then Bortz, then Chloe and finally back to the director. She was beginning to gain the 'this has to be a dream' look the rest of them had.

"Didn't you stop him?" she queried.

"I did not pin him to the ground, no," Chloe responded and briefly gave her the same choice as the rest.

Calderwell was finally added to the mix. He entered through the fire door hesitantly while trying not to show his caution, making his walk almost like that of a pallbearer. Then he noticed the view and stared out. Chloe let others explain the situation.

"This is incredible!" he declared eventually. "Why aren't you recording all this? You have smart glasses and pads: we have to gather as much data as we can. This is… better than I could have imagined. We will be noted as the greatest minds of our age, beyond Newton or Einstein. The people who opened a new era for mankind. With this, humanity can travel the stars."

"You're an idiot," Chloe stated.

"Come now," Calderwell said, actually smiling at her, although it seemed odd on his face, as though not sure how to form the expression. "We'll put that earlier unpleasantness behind us. I understand why you wanted to keep it to yourselves but with Bright Horizons we can do so much more. Under my guidance, the possibilities are limitless. Once we have better understanding of how it works, the machine can literally take us anywhere."

"Fitzpatrick, your colleague is having trouble with the situation," Chloe told her. "If I have to talk to him any longer, he's going to get very acquainted with that tub of water downstairs."

"Don't be childish and selfish!" Calderwell snapped. "The world can benefit from this device."

Obix turned to face him, still with that open, quizzical countenance, but Calderwell let Fitzpatrick lead him away.

Outside, the director turned and walked off to the left, out of sight, and the discussion among the employees picked up again. Despite the noise and light, Chloe dozed until Bortz returned to the building, again prizing open the doors like gaining access to a vault.

"What did I tell you?" Bortz announced, stirring Chloe to wakefulness. Max shifted beside her but remained asleep. The director looked flushed from being outside and his walk around the perimeter.

"Perfectly harmless," he continued, addressing his staff. "That's the good news. Now the bad: there's desert all around. And the truly bad: I think we're in Texas!"

Nervous laughter.

"I am going to discuss the situation with Professors Calderwell and Fitzpatrick then get us home," Bortz announced. "Stay calm and make yourselves comfortable but please let me know as soon as you can get through to someone on your devices.

"You will be dealt with later," he told Chloe dismissively. "In the meantime, stop alarming my people with your nonsense."

There was collective relief from the employees. Some of the researchers remained less than certain but many believed Bortz because they wanted to believe. Chloe had the impression many would have rushed outside had he told them home was just beyond view.

Annoyingly, it was one of the Warden security people who approached her. Larry was evidently a directly-hired night watchman rather than one of theirs. Chloe felt herself tense and Max move beside her. She carefully eased away and lay Max out on the seats. The guard waited without comment.

Chloe stood and moved to stand in front of the man, glowering up at him. It was the same one who had sought permission to treat Scarrow. Latin American, muscular yet lean rather than bulked with drooping eyelids that gave him a half-asleep look with a strong jaw line, he was probably eight inches taller than her.

"John Luna, Tyler Scarrow's second," he introduced himself as though she was not staring hate at him. "I'm here for a truce. Whatever that suit said, this isn't Texas and we're not going to find a Wal-mart over the next ridge. Most of my people are with you."

Chloe told him what she thought to that idea.

"Look, I get it," Luna said. "I would be the same but you need us almost as much as we need you."

She glared at him. His dark eyes regarded her passively.

"My terms," she began, although her jaw ached from clenching it. "Not a truce, we become allies."

That did surprise him and Chloe loathed having to do it but she had to keep Emma and Max safe. Oz and Obix too but it was only for her family that she was making this deal with the black-suited devils.

"Here, we are united. That's not to say friends but we watch each other's back. At home, you leave us alone. That's one," she said and he nodded understanding. Chloe almost wished he was as naïve as the researchers.

"Next, if you didn't catch it before, it's my team. You might think you know what's out there but you don't. Trying to second guess me is going to get you killed…"

"I understand," Luna stated and she got the impression he really did.

"Now, you won't like this but you're the leader of the…" she had to take two slow breaths and close her eyes before continuing without unleashing the invective she wanted to. "The Warden people. You, not Scarrow."

"That's not possible," Luna told her.

"Then we have a problem," Chloe responded. "I don't trust him. Go back to your people and tell them whatever you want and, if you like, Scarrow is your second but it will not work between me and him. I give you orders, you pass them on. Anyone, Scarrow or otherwise, has a problem you can't handle, you come to me with it."

"Very well," Luna accepted. "I'll make it work. So, boss, orders?"

Chloe could not tell if he was being facetious with his louche countenance but let it slide. He had to call her something and she was not ready for the informality of 'Chloe'.

"There's one punishment from me: exile," she told him. "In here, that might not be too bad. If we get out, well, let's not worry about that mountain until we reach it. I need a 4 by 4. Those idiots are going to set off to find help and we need at least one cross-country vehicle.

"If the group splits, I'm going to want the lower levels but keeping watch is going to be easier from high up. Perhaps…"

"I can arrange something," Luna said. "Don't worry. They won't stop us. No, we won't break skulls doing it," he added before she could object. "Anything else?"

"Water," she said. "It's going to be key. Save what water you can from the toilets. We'll try to recycle too."

That seemed to get to him the seriousness of the situation.

"If you have anyone who knows construction, you may want them to check how secure this building is," Chloe said and he nodded. She wondered if Luna or Scarrow had been planning to takeover, perhaps use her as a cat's paw or figurehead. The trouble was, he was correct in that everything would be easier with the only people trained in combat working for her.

Max moved to her side to watch the room as well.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Chloe said and Max shook her head.

"You should get some rest."

"I need to know how this will play out," Chloe told her. Opposite them, Bortz, Fitzpatrick and Calderwell were in heated discussion. "Should I have offered more hope?"

"It would get more people to us in the short term but how long until they turned on you? Besides, I've heard your and Emma's stories, love you both but can still barely believe what I am seeing out the window," Max said. "And I brought everyone here."

"That's their fault," Chloe stated. "They took the machine. They left us with no choice. How long before it was used somehow anyway? This is on them." Max leaned against her.

"I'll get some people to help move the chairs downstairs and make a bed of sorts," Chloe added.

"Not yet," Max declined. Chloe felt dead on her feet but wanted to be present in case there was something she could do to stop the scientists joining Bortz. She could not trust how it would play out.

In the end two-thirds went with Bortz, more than she had expected. He was their boss and was offering them what they desperately wanted. They were smart people but that worked against them as many thought that what had occurred went against everything they knew. Going with Chloe's side was the difficult option but many did and their reasons were likely as varied as those who stayed with their familiar supervisors.

"I am sorry for what happened to you," Fitzpatrick apologized as people finally began sorting themselves out, some arguing to influence friends the other way. "But you are dangerous. You brought us here. I cannot trust you to get us home."

"Better to follow someone dangerous than an imbecile," Chloe said and knew it was petulant, the kind of flippant remark to annoy rather than persuade that she often resorted to. Jackie nodded as though expecting nothing less and returned to Bortz.

It was Calderwell who almost joined her side, again arguing for what they could do together. Even as he walked back to Bortz, Calderwell looked back at her as though unable to understand her refusal.

Next in the procession was Bortz. Chloe peered at him looking for signs of radiation exposure but he looked healthy, aside from being overweight. Her stare at least took the arrogance off his features as he frowned at her.

"We will be taking the upper floors," he announced. "You are not to mingle with my people. Be assured, once back where we should be, you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. So you are aware, anyone who joins you will have to petition to return to us.

"Next, it seems you have stolen items from our zone."

Even while he was talking, a group of four Warden people were carrying off a vending machine from the lobby behind him.

Chloe, Max at her side, said nothing but he then waited for her to comment, with a smugness that indicated he knew how to play the game of forcing the other to speak.

"I'm sorry," Chloe sighed.

"Oh, well, good," Bortz said, caught off guard. "Just return what you took."

Chloe shook her head. He had not gone far and it was not especially windy but he had been outside fifteen minutes. It would not be lethal if they could get him treatment. He might even have gotten lucky.

"Ground floor will have to be no-man's land," she said. "Good luck."

"We want our water back!" he spluttered but Chloe, Max and Obix walked to those who had gathered on their side, looking frightened and glancing over at the other, larger group. For a minute, Chloe considered if there had been another choice; to submit to Bortz or make a better argument. But it was done and now was not the time for reflection.

"I wish I could sugar coat this but getting out of this is going to take ingenuity and luck," Chloe told them. "So, you'll have to pull together and work hard. We don't know how long this will take so rations are going to have to last and you are going to have to conserve water in ways you never thought."

"I'm on board and everything," a young woman, probably barely out of college, said, "but surely working together is, like, better? The other group are our friends. Why be so confrontational?"

"Because they don't get it," Chloe sighed. Her brain felt like sludge and she was going to start making mistakes without resting soon. "This is like a siege with radiation as the attacker. There's no way out so have a think about how long you want water and food to last. If you can get anyone to understand that, they are welcome to join."

"Is it hopeless?" the woman asked calmly and everyone looked at Chloe.

"I have told you how it is. We have a chance but we're…" her mind failed for an analogy

"Twenty down in the fourth quarter," Luna added.

"Right. We give up and lose or we fight to win," Chloe said.

"We have water and food stored and a rotation of guards. Your daughter insisted on the two card checkers being included," Luna said evenly.

"Good. Don't dismiss them. We're equal here: equal rations, equal justice. What I say goes only because I know this place," Chloe explained and again quelled the idea of letting someone else lead. "I'm open to ideas. You're smart: get thinking. If anyone brought lunch, it's yours but think about sharing.

"Luna," she nodded him over while the others shuffled off. They seemed more optimistic but things would get bad soon enough.

"John," he said.

"Luna," Chloe insisted and he shrugged. "What have you got for me?"

"A pair of 4 by 4s. It's not a hazmat suit but one of my people will give up their fatigues as its thicker than most cloth. The rest will be ceiling tiles and the like. So, who goes?"

"Obix," Chloe said and Luna blinked in surprise, presumably expecting her to assign Warden people to the mission.

"He's tougher than he looks," Luna nodded. "Just him?"

That was something Chloe had been considering.

"It's a death sentence for anyone else," she explained and ignored his curiosity. It was bad enough losing the mech, their only physical strength against threats from within. She did not know how Obix would react if his passenger was dying, either. Against that, she did not think Obix could persuade anyone to help if he did reach civilization. Altruism was at an all-time premium on Telkia.

"I'm going to have people take a spare battery from another vehicle," Luna said. "The owner doesn't recall how much juice the current one has. If it has to travel for a long time then it might help."

"Good, I didn't think of that," Chloe admitted, apparently taking him by surprise again enough for him to twitch an eyebrow. She had also forgotten nearly every car was now electric, even the off-road ones. "Keep the people covered and they should be alright for ten minutes but stay on the tarmac. There's no beta radiation but probably worth changing clothing after."

"I need to have a word with Obix," she said and Luna left with an inclination of his head and half salute. The mech came across.

"Do you understand the situation, Obix?" Chloe asked.

"Completely. I will search for help until no longer able to," the mech responded.

"I'm sorry but it has to be you," she told him.

"Of course," Obix said as though the notion it could be anyone else was without doubt.

The Pirates, Calderwell, Fitzpatrick and Luna watched Obix in layers of clothing topped by a Warden uniform walk to the car. The former had all hugged the mech, even Osira, albeit uncertainly. Obix and the int-soft specialist had looked at each other, the former smiling and the latter frowning.

"I hope you come back, Obix," Osira said.

"As do I, Mistress Osira," the mech responded with a tilt of his head then went outside, walking swiftly, climbed into the vehicle that was packed to the windows with padding and accelerated away.

"What is it about that man?" Calderwell demanded. "Why him?" Chloe ignored him.

"He will die out there," Fitzpatrick stated. Chloe ignored her as well.

The two scientists headed to the stairwell, arguing over whether Obix was human and his chances.

"We're getting some sleep. Luna, you're in charge. Try not to waterboard anyone while I'm asleep," Chloe said and left with Emma and Max. At the door to the stairwell, Chloe turned to see Osira stood alone staring out the windows at where the mech had gone.

THREE

Osira had the advantage of a small chip that increased her body's production of acetylcholine to keep her awake, implanted by the Ibuki Corporation before going on a job for them. It was as crude as the corporation had been with no indication of how long it would last and even required her to tap the side of her head where it had been installed. So primitive as to be something she expected more from the Wastes than a mid-sized company in Mizuho Precinct. Staring at the patch of desert where Obix and the vehicle it was driving had gone out of sight, the chip was the only thing keeping her awake but she would need to tap it off soon.

Osira considered herself practical but had been so caught up with getting back to Telkia before something altered that it had never occurred to her that she could land far from safety. Had Maxine not teleported the entire building, she would be dying out in that desert, probably carried by Obix, sheltering her as best as possible while its systems failed.

Emma had spent nearly all her life in Telkia and Chloe half of hers but they would never understand how disturbing it was for a mech to assault a human. Mechs were better in every way than humans and, if it came to a war, it would be completely one-sided. Consequently, there was a part of the mech mind that was hard int, that required physically going in at the microscopic and even quantum level to alter and doing so was the gravest crime on Telkia. That did not stop foolish or greedy people doing so, just that the consequences were necessarily dire.

Osira had never heard of a mech becoming violent without a human tampering with the hard-int. Even war mechs were incapable of using lethal force against people and required extensive soft-int modification and persuasion to use non-lethal rounds.

Watching Obix harm people when it could have avoided doing so was as horrifying as a toddler with a gun and as impossible as... a woman teleporting a building just by willpower. Throwing the Warden guards to the ground and injuring them was bad enough but possibly justifiable in that they were a danger to her and the others. Holding the Scarrow man under water had looked like vengeance and mechs did not have emotions, even if programmed to simulate them.

Osira had demanded to know what Chloe had said to Obix to cause it to stop.

"This is not who we are," Obix had informed her, which was almost as disconcerting. It was akin to giving a moral argument to a malfunctioning kettle and having it perform properly.

Then Osira had become an accomplice because she had not done what was required and destroyed Obix. The law, society and morality were clear: a mech that was violent to humans was a threat to humanity. Soft-int changes would be insufficient; the hard-int had to be destroyed. Osira had considered Maxine utterly selfish in saving those she loved over the lives of far more people. Now, Osira had gambled humanity's existence that Obix would not reprogram other mechs.

There was a sliver of doubt about his actions, perhaps considering that 'waterboarding' Scarrow was harmless, as the Warden leader had argued. The guards who had attacked the… _Pirates_ had to be halted. Obix was the only hope of saving nearly sixty people. Yet, if she was honest, it was not those reasons that had stopped her.

Even by ten, Osira had a fascination and aptitude for working with soft-int. By twelve, she was the best programmer in the encampment and had been given a badly damaged mech, both physically and in its programs, including soft-int and soft-op. It had taken then best part of a year working in her free time to get the mech operational and another year ironing out the bugs, then another improving it. For ten years, Obix had rarely been away from her, a constant, reassuring presence in the background. Now, she had lacked the moral strength to destroy him.

The top floor of the structure was gone. However the building had been transported to Telkia, nothing past the third storey had made it and the stairwell ended in rubble. The fool Bortz had reported the fourth floor was gone, ending in just a flat office floor with many of the desks still visible. From the third floor, she had gained a view of the surrounding area that was not promising. Beyond the car park, it was almost as though someone had taken a ten meter square of desert and copied it in all directions until it filled the background. Pale plants separated from each other by stretches of red sand. No settlements or tracks. They were deep in the Wastes.

Her reluctance to destroy Obix herself might well prove moot.

If she felt more sympathetic towards Maxine Caulfield, then Chloe Price had been a revelation. The woman prancing around like a young girl in Jarrow's Printing Services, chasing Maxine with fingers oily from working on the car, taking pointless chances spying on the warehouse, scrawling sometimes rather crass pictures and generally grinning like an imbecile had gone. Somehow, she had managed to sift out the majority of the useless or hindering people and retain those that could assist in getting them out. At least for now, even the Warden guards were under her authority. That Chloe Price could check her emotions enough to work with them had, more than anything, made Osira reappraise her. Again.

Osira sighed, catching her reflection in the glass. Now it was waiting and starving. Also reflected were other people: the ground floor was less 'no-man's land' so much as everyone's. Both groups were freely mingling, discussing and arguing. She saw more than one person hand over food to someone they liked.

She sat on the floor as the seats had been taken for bedding almost as soon as Chloe and Maxine had vacated them.

Of course, she was not left alone. People would come up to her wanting to know about Telkia then not believe her when she told them. One young man even seemed to be flirting with her. The end of the most stressful period, apparent survival, danger not entirely gone and probably a degree of boredom made his attempt to charm her less ridiculous than it felt. He was also young and male, less than her age, when testosterone would be pulling at him like a puppet master.

"I am with Obix," she told him disingenuously.

"Oh. Oh, I wasn't… Just checking you were alright," he responded and soon left.

However annoying the presence of so many people and their inane chatter was, Osira decided to stay. Regardless of the implant, her body would need rest but decided it would be better to wait until Chloe was awake again. She did not trust any of the other people present, even among their 'side', and having one of the… _Pirates_ awake at all times was sensible.

Bortz reappeared from upstairs, trailed by Calderwell, Fitzpatrick and then what appeared to be all of those not already in the lobby. Their manager strode through them and they parted to make way. His jacket was off, revealing a pale shirt and bright yellow tie that almost matched the company's logo in hue. He clambered onto the reception counter as Chloe had done, albeit with more difficulty. Calderwell, back to looking annoyed, stood below him to his left and Fitzpatrick, appearing equally irritated, to his right like guardians to a king. Everyone else stopped speaking and waited for Bortz's pronouncement. He delayed it a moment to peak interest.

"Unfortunately, no-one has reception on their devices yet, even from outside or the roof," he announced. "The intruders who caused this will not share what they know." Many turned to look at Osira, shaking heads or mumbling disparagingly. Bortz quickly brought attention back to him. "However, they clearly have some idea as they have sent one of their people to get help.

"Given how they have endangered everyone and created this ridiculous situation, I have decided not to trust that their one man can get to safety without driving off a cliff." He smiled but few shared his amusement. One woman was snacking on a packet of chips.

"Therefore, we are going to send an expedition. A properly organized one. To that end, I am asking for volunteers."

"What about radiation?" one man asked and many nodded. A few turned to frown at Osira.

"What radiation?" Bortz replied and did a quick, two tap jig on the counter, holding his arms open.

It convinced. Perhaps not enough for people to sit outside but first one man raised his hand to volunteer then several others did. The meeting broke up in an optimistic mood, being able to help to bring rescue boosting their morale. Here was something productive they could do and the situation was, obviously, nowhere near as dire as it had been made to seem.

Osira returned to looking out at the Waste.

Fitzpatrick sat beside her.

"What is it with you people and sitting on the floor?" Fitzpatrick complained, wincing. Osira looked at her. Greying hair tied up in a bun over a sharply intelligent face, Osira had been disappointed that she had stayed with Bortz. Watching her with the machine and her team, she was capable and respected. Perhaps just as well, though, as she would have brought several others to their side and Osira had seen what happened when there were more mouths to feed than food. On occasion, acts of humbling sacrifice. More often, a demagogue would rile others to righteous indignation and then violence.

"Tell me again," Fitzpatrick sighed, failing to make herself comfortable.

"Why?" Osira queried, looking at her perplexed.

"Please," the scientist said, closing her eyes.

"This is where I come from. It is radiated everywhere I have been. I cannot accept this is your Earth in the future. Causality will not allow it. Yet, if this world was once like yours, there are weapons, power stations and climate change that could all result in this. A massive coronal ejection from the sun, a war, an accident." She shrugged. "It does not matter. This is where I was born. Your world felt wrong: without the thick clouds the sun was too bright, the air peculiar, even the wind.

"Even able to only see that, I know this is my world as you would know your home on entering it. I have measured the radiation elsewhere. It is lethal but not instantly. Nor is it even. I cannot say 'you will get 50 milisilverts by stepping outside for an hour'. This may even be a clear patch but the Wastes are mostly empty for a reason.

"I will tell you what you know: whoever you send will die."

"You sent Obix," Fitzpatrick said.

"Obix is not human, as you must have figured."

The scientist nodded, staring at the floor for a long time.

"Are you sure Obix will get through? Will bring us help?" Fitzpatrick eventually asked, tired hazel eyes narrowing as she looked at Osira.

"Of course not," she answered.

"So, we almost have to send others," Fitzpatrick stated. "We have to sacrifice as many as we can so the rest can survive."

"Yes."

"But you sent one person. Not even a person."

Osira narrowed her own eyes then caught her annoyance. Obix was a mech, so why did she dislike others dismissing him as such? It. _It_ as such?

"Because Chloe Price would not send more," she answered. Fitzpatrick sniffed, derisively but Osira suspected the scientist was satisfied at finding a weakness in Chloe. "If she sends another vehicle, I suspect Chloe will go in it but she is needed here. Even now, you are squandering resources. Without her, the Warden people will take charge."

Fitzpatrick was quick enough in understanding to look concerned at that notion.

"Do you still wish us to send another vehicle?" Osira asked, knowing it was unnecessary needling. Fitzpatrick stared at her but said nothing. Chloe would volunteer and there was enough ill will about their predicament that only the Pirates would try to stop her. Perhaps them all getting into a car and driving until dead was a better option than staying trapped here to starve to death, waiting for a rescue with fading hope.

Osira blinked and smiled, causing Fitzpatrick to look at her with suspicion. Despite everything, Osira had come to think of the Price-Caulfield family as her friends.

"I had best go and send…" Fitzpatrick began then lowered her voice and changed what she was going to say. "…our people off." The 'to their deaths' hung in the air louder than if the scientist had spoken it.

The Bortz Expedition took three hours to prepare and Osira was so mortified by their growing customization to being outside that she tried to warn them. Fitzpatrick also tried to stop them but claiming 'just in case'. Bortz dismissed them again, even standing outside, and Osira finally understood that the more she pushed the less the upper floor people wanted to listen. The Expedition, two four-wheel drive cars and a van, was assembled and six people selected from the volunteers.

Despite being unable to stop them, Osira still felt the ugly decision tug at her. Was it better to warn them, thereby potentially ending the expedition but giving them marginally better chance of survival if they still went or let them go as they were as a dice throw to save everyone?

The other world bothered her as well. If they were, incredibly, the same one, it meant she was right to insist on coming before changing the timeline was altered. It was futile speculation but if it was different, as it had to be, then she had doomed all these people. Reassembling and using the machine was on her, as they could have created false identities and changed the records without being caught.

Osira grimly watched the expedition leave, almost the only dour person there as the others cheered, wished them luck and bon voyage. Calderwell had traded or demanded equipment from the below ground laboratories and the expedition had several instruments – although none for radiation – as well as, apparently, a good part of the upper floor's food.

"Don't forget about us when you find a bar!" someone called despite the cars driving off, taking a different route to Obix. There was laughter and smiles. Bortz and the others who had braved going outside to wave them off returned indoors, the leader looking at her with contempt and disappointment. Red dust kicked up as they drove off along troughs in the hope that the ground was firmer than on the peaks. One arm waved from a window.

"A day or two and they'll be back, I'm sure," someone said.

"If that!" another agreed.

"I hope they are quicker, I'm famished," added a third and Osira did her best to shut out the conversations. She did catch Fitzpatrick's haunted features as Bortz told the scientist not to worry.

A few hours passed, almost meaninglessly. Osira checked downstairs, where most were asleep, and upstairs, where she was clearly not welcome. People even hid things from her sight. Some were using data pads and smart glasses to pass the time. She returned to the lobby and her vigil. The employees, even those from upstairs, were more open here and some sat with her. With some reluctance, she answered their questions but most actually wanted to talk about their lives. They would show pictures of their families or talk about vacations that barely made sense to her.

Consequently, she said little, which suited her, but few were bothered and seemed to only want someone to listen. While the softer, couch seats had gone, several wheeled plastic ones were brought down, the first being for Osira, carried across by an older man concerned for her comfort. He had been telling her of his grandchildren then decided she needed a chair. After that, several more were brought and the reception area became a communal meeting place that appeared to be breaking down the mistrust created when people chose the 'wrong' side.

Mid-afternoon, with the outside still a dull off-orange, a woman came hurrying into the lobby from the upper floors. Osira semi-recognised her as one of the staff but had not stood out among the others and seemed to have been administration rather than research. There were currently twenty people sat lounging, bored, although a pack of cards had been made and half of them were gambling with IOUs.

"There are dogs coming!" the woman declared and looked at Osira triumphantly. "You see? We aren't in some hell place. If there are dogs, there are people and civilization."

Osira looked at her, wondering how she had lived so long. Were there no wild dogs in the other world? What she had observed through Obix and the data pad in Jarrow's Printing Service was confusing with fiction and fact difficult to separate. Some of the most incredible things turned out to be true, while what she considered feasible was only fantasy.

"Don't be sour! All that silliness about radiation and not using the restrooms can be forgotten," the woman said, apparently singling her out for not being Bright Horizons staff, despite many others looking dubious at her assurances.

Osira nearly asked Obix to check before remembering he was gone into the desert.

"Who is in charge here?" Osira asked. It took a lot of shrugs and debate but a woman of perhaps thirty, a dyed blonde with a narrow face culminating in a protruding nose, came forward dressed in dark slacks and a cream blouse.

"Ellie Hill, S-7, head of administration," she introduced herself with evident reluctance.

"Osira Greystream, int-soft specialist," responded and Ellie's mouth twitched in amusement that Osira found patronizing. She knew the meaning was lost on the administrator but the woman seemed to think it was something Osira had made up.

"You have to protect against whatever that woman has seen," Osira told her.

"The electricity is off," Ellie explained patiently. "They can't get in here."

"And buildings can't teleport!" Osira snapped, tired of their refusal to accept reality. Ellie's initial response was to put her nose in the air and take offense, crossing her arms across her chest. She then seemed to consider the matter.

"They are dogs? What do you expect me to do?"

Others were listening now, with only the woman who had come downstairs shaking her head in amusement at Osira's reaction.

"What you would normally do," Osira said, frowning, then understood that danger really was not something they had ever faced. "Barricade the doors. Arm yourselves. Keep out of sight."

"For a pack of dogs with no means in?" Ellie checked but was wavering. Then the woman from upstairs screamed and Osira turned to see a crimson hyena sniffing at the door. It was probably four feet at the shoulders, with dark red fur of a colour that reminded her of Scarrow's beard, with dark spots, snout and paws. It was beyond mangy, where the radiation had caused it to lose fur in patches and there were cancerous growths, including one over its left eye. Despite that, it had a friendly face, with the curvature of its mouth curving upwards and tongue lolling out as bead-like black eyes peered inside.

"What… what _is_ that?" Ellie stammered, the pitch of her voice several octaves higher.

"Not alone," Osira replied. "Someone help me move what's left of this couch."

Ellie seemed transfixed by the hyena that was pawing at the door, leaving scratches on the glass. A man came over and several more people joined until they were getting in each other's way in their eagerness to move the couch. The hyena noticed the movement, close enough to the glass to be visible, and tilted its head, observing them curiously. It soon resumed scratching, now at the ground. The woman who had screamed ran back to the stairwell and through the fire door.

"Get weapons," Osira ordered, frustrated at having to take charge.

"This is an office building, not a frigging armoury," a man objected.

"Improvise," she ordered and headed for the stairwell.

"Don't leave us!" Ellie pleaded, close to panic.

"Go below, get what you can from the laboratories," Osira instructed and Ellie bobbed her head before running off.

"Should I go with her?" the man who had spoken before asked.

"Yes! Go! Get whatever you can," she said as a second hyena joined the first. People rushed off until she was almost alone.

Luna came from below, shrugging into his thick Warden jacket.

"What's all this about devil dogs?" he asked laconically and rubbing his dark hair.

Obix had given Osira the pistol taken from Scarrow and she had handed it to Chloe, who had handed it to Emma. No-one else had a gun and she knew it would be very useful but now was not the time for it. Only eight bullets and there would be calls to use them on the hyenas.

Luna swore as he stood on the half-couch to peer out the door. The scratching stopped and Osira knew the hyenas would be looking up at him. The Warden guard – now leader – turned to her.

"Why haven't you got Chloe up?" he queried. "She will know what to do."

"They are crimson hyenas, not even augmented," Osira told him. "Chloe Price would not do anything I have not, including delegating to you. You are security."

"Security? Against people, not fucking horse-sized dogs!" he exaggerated, although Osira had once seen a pack close to that size. They had been cybernetically modified so probably had growth hormones as well, rather than being natural like the ones trying to get in.

"You: any knives?" Luna was asking someone. If nothing else, his indifferent, bored expression had gone.

"Only plastic. Health and safety banned metal ones," came the reply, prompting another expletive from the security man.

"Screwdrivers? Any tools? You, dumb and dumber…" Luna shouted.

"Larry and this is Ken," came the angry correction.

"I don't give a fuck. Get into the maintenance areas and get something that can kill these things. Osira, what about these?"

Luna had taken a red cylindrical container with a black tube from a man who had brought it from behind the reception counter.

"I do not know what that is," she admitted and he stared at her, speechless for a moment.

"A fire extinguisher. It has pressured gas. Carbon dioxide," he explained.

"Yes, that's good. It won't harm them but they won't enjoy it," she nodded. The glass reverberated. One had tried heading it, she guessed. Another leapt up and left long claw marks as it slid down, causing the others to yap as it landed among them.

"Watch the back door and have someone posted on the upper levels," Osira instructed, which was when Bortz and his entourage came down, clearly annoyed at the distraction. He had clearly just woken, his business trousers and pale shirt crumpled without tie.

"Now what are you up to?" Bortz demanded. Calderwell was scowling behind him while Fitzpatrick appeared annoyed. They all stopped and stared as a hyena again leapt up and into view before scrabbling as it fell back down.

"Stay out of the way!" Luna ordered and told one of his Warden people to take a group to the rear door.

"How dare you? I'll have you sacked," Bortz said. "We are one of Warden's biggest clients." Calderwell and Fitzpatrick went to stare at the hyenas.

Bortz joined them and seemed mesmerized. The glass shuddered and the three people simultaneously took a step back. The director gaped. A smear of blood was added to the scratches. Calderwell pushed smart glasses down onto the bridge of his nose to better record the creatures.

Luna returned and there were now twenty people in a group, including those Warden guards not at the back, with assorted weapon, from keyboards to chairs, fire extinguishers and cleaning tools.

"Once they are in, go for the eyes and snouts," Osira said and Luna repeated loud enough for all to hear.

To Osira's great relief, Chloe appeared through the fire door of the stairwell. She nodded to Osira by way of greeting, rubbed her eyes at the brightness and padded over to the glass entrance. Standing beside the barricade, to which had been added a table, smashed vending machine and chairs, the hyenas got a glance from her and then Chloe peered into the distance. As she suspected everyone else was doing, Osira watched her. Back to them, thin, with even the T-shirt from yesterday hanging loose on her frame, roots starting to show at the base of her blue hair, Chloe Price held Osira's attention, waiting for her guidance. From the quiet behind her, Osira was sure the same was true for the rest of the group and even Bortz and the two senior scientists.

Chloe banged on the glass window.

"Shut up," she growled and the hyenas, distracted by the unknown noise, stilled their scratching and yipping.

Chloe turned to Osira.

"We'll catch the edge of the storm but it shouldn't be too bad. The mutts are just looking for somewhere to wait it out," Chloe said and Osira nodded. She had also seen the purples, yellows and blacks on the horizon as though the sky was bruised.

"You got this?" Chloe checked and Osira again nodded before realizing what that meant.

"Luna? Good?" Chloe queried.

"Yes…" the Warden leader hesitantly confirmed.

"Well, I'm off back to bed then. Wake me if there's a problem, yadda, yadda," Chloe said and left.

The scratching resumed as though the hyenas had also waited for her to depart and end the interlude. Osira thought the woman's disappearance would spark panic but the defenders seemed to take strength from Chloe's faith in their abilities. Much of the desperation became determination. Luna looked at Osira and twitched a shrug.

A hyena got its claw into the door's rubber seal and they were then quick to understand the obstacle moved sideways. With frightening intelligence, two of them hooked their paws in and separated the doors. The first one Osira had seen, as high at the shoulders as her chest, bounded through the gap, scrambling on the barricade.

"Extinguishers!" Luna ordered and a man and woman came forward. The pulled the pins, directed the nozzle at the face of the hyenas and sprayed pressurized carbon dioxide. The first hyena snapped and shook its head, falling off the barricade. It opened and closed its jaws, trying to get the feel of the gas from its mouth. A second hyena leapt in followed by a third.

"Attack!" Luna ordered.

The Bright Horizons staff screamed and ran forward to batter the hyenas with everything they had. Osira realized the time for advice had ended and looked for something to hit the animals with. There was only a chair from the barricade and she used it more as a shield, pushing at the beasts.

People yelled, screamed, swore. Hyenas yapped, barked and snarled.

The employees were utterly untrained for fighting. They fell over each other, thumped each other as often their targets and crowded together hindering their attacks. Blood spurted from wounds. A man's arm was clawed, a woman had her leg bitten into, an older man was knocked to the floor and trodden on, a younger one had a hyena leap onto him.

The humans fought just as savagely. One swung an electric heater by its cord like a mace, Kathleen O' Daugherty brought a chair down on a hyena's head, Ismail broke a keyboard against the haunches of the same creature, Larry the Guard clubbed one with a wrench, Ken speared the it with a screwdriver duct taped to a pole, Emma was at Osira's side and hurled a beaker from the underground laboratories at a hyena scrambling through the door. The creature howled in pain and fumes rose from where the beaker's liquid spilled onto it.

Then it was over. Bleeding, in one case burning from acid or alkaline, the hyenas turned and ran, tails between their legs, yipping mournfully.

Within there was a pause, then Luna shouted 'yes!' and punched his fist in the air. The others cheered and hooted. Emma grinned at her in a manner very like Chloe's and Osira returned it. At that moment, Osira wondered if it was too late to change her vote.

FOUR

Max woke in time for lunch. She and Chloe had the only thing that could count as a bed made from cushions taken from couches. Everyone else would be sleeping on the bare floor, using whatever they could. Apparently, it was a perk of sleeping with the leader. She was in a small side office, to give them some privacy – another luxury – and the emergency lighting showed a small book case with folders, a film poster on the wall with a sultry woman looking over her shoulder, a small reproduction of a Monet painting, and the de rigeur computer terminal.

She peered at her watch, although time did not have the meaning it used to. There were no deadlines, hurrying home to research, staying up late, getting to work for eight. It was two in the afternoon and she had slept for about five hours, reducing exhaustion to regular tiredness. It did not feel like the middle of the day. Chloe entered and smiled at seeing her.

"I don't suppose the building rebounded to our time?" Max asked.

"Not yet," Chloe replied.

"Remind me to move an apartment store, next time," Max said and plucked at her T-shirt.

"Will do," Chloe laughed, sitting next to her and putting an arm around Max's shoulders. "We'll pick out an upmarket one."

"What's the latest?" Max checked.

"There's a bunch of crimson hyenas trying to get in," Chloe sighed and leaned against her.

"Is that a gang?" Max asked and Chloe smiled.

"No: literally hyenas that are crimson, although more of a rusty red. I've left Osira and Luna to sort," Chloe explained, increasing Max's curiosity. Chloe took a deep breath, shifting beside her.

"I can't do it all," she said simply. "It's like with Emma, trying to protect them too much will just get them hurt more in the longer run."

It was the big gap between them, with both vainly trying to fill it. Max never seeing Emma's life as she grew up. Chloe making all the decisions and responsibility for raising their daughter utterly alone.

"Is she… up there?" Max asked and Chloe nodded, closing her eyes.

"Emma can look after herself. She has faced worse without help."

Chloe was obviously worried and could not stay still, rising to stand closer to the stairwell. Joining her, Max interlaced her fingers with Chloe's. She felt like they were at a school play Emma was performing for which their daughter had rehearsed perfectly but failure meant injury or death. Clearly, Chloe's confidence that those above would deal with the horizons was being weakened as time passed to the sound of fighting obscured by the closed stairwell door.

Chloe swore and pulled open the fire door, ready to run up and help when the one above opened. The sound of celebration echoed down to them but it was only when Emma appeared that they simultaneously relaxed. Their daughter looked at them curiously.

"Moms, they were hyenas," Emma said, shrugging. "I was in more danger from the Horizons people." She checked no-one heard her comment but they were all talking excitedly among themselves. "A small pack probably split off from a larger one and not all at the front door. The lab even came up with explosives but I wasn't going to waste those. I was surprised when the beaker I threw didn't break, though."

"Will they still follow me?" Chloe asked. "The Horizons people?"

"If there's anyone who thinks you didn't go up from fear, I will put them right," Emma said firmly.

"Right, who's up for lunch?" Chloe smiled. "On today's menu are assorted candy bars."

"I didn't fight," Max said. "Pretty much slept through the whole thing so I'll pass."

"No," Emma stated, shaking her head.

"See everyone gets a half bar," Chloe told their daughter, "us included. Have Larry the Guard and Ken help distribute. We'll eat communally in the largest downstairs room. Anyone from the upper floors who fought… they get a half too but no-one else from above."

"Bortz and his cronies were present," Emma said, "but didn't help. I think they were too shocked but they shouldn't get anything."

Chloe nodded vehement agreement then took Max's hand and led her back into their room. They sat cross-legged facing each other and Chloe took her hands.

"Max, my love, let's leave aside that I would give you anything," Chloe said. "You and I have probably the lowest body mass here. That means if help does not come and people starve, we will die first. In some ways, leaving Emma, Oz and the others upstairs to fight the hyenas was preparing them, if it comes to that.

"I will try to keep everyone alive as long as possible. Obix is out there. The frigging Bortz Expedition is out there. If a pack of Hyenas can find us, a caravan or itinerant band can.

"But there is only one person who can get us home. You're our only hope, Maxi-mom," Chloe declared and Max laughed despite the seriousness. "Now, let's go and feast."

For all that she had joked about taking an apartment store instead, there were advantages to the Horizons building. In addition to a line of well-separated flasks with labels indicating they would explode if combined, there was also iodine and anti-septic washes. Those injured had their wounds treated and sat among the others spread around the laboratory rooms.

'No Tomorrow' was playing off a data pad, its start prompting a chorus of 'yes, there is!' from those assembled and the lyrics were soon lost in the general conversation.

Max nibbled her confectionary bar, trying to make it last while smiling at the optimism that permeated the group. After a day of confusion and fear, their victory had given them all hope. Osira was listening with quiet interest to Ken explaining how he had struck a hyena, Emma and Ismail laughing about something, even the Warden guards were chatting with others – the exception being Scarrow who was in their makeshift hospital downstairs, ostensibly recovering.

Yet she could not shake Chloe's words. She did not consider herself pessimistic but this was not so much a victory as a disaster averted.

Chloe looked at her with exasperation then grabbed her hand and led her to a space near the data pad playing music. Max let herself be led and joined in as Chloe danced, grinning, leaning forward to be closer to her, eyes wide and flashing with pleasure. Chloe danced in front of her, head moving side-to-side, shoulders rolling then arms waving sinuously in the air, pausing to put both hands over her heart when noticing Emma beaming at them. That Max felt stiff in comparison mattered not at all as she did her best to keep up.

"I love you," Max laughed as Chloe's hands rested on her shoulders, looking deep into sparkling eyes, the woman's happiness turning them into blue half-moons.

"I should hope so," Chloe responded, swaying with her, "I don't dance with just anyone." The words were barely audible over those present cheering them on but Max's world was just the woman in front of her.

For a few minutes, it was the only world and that carefree happiness did not end quickly but it was gradually eroded.

The first chip was people intruding almost as soon as they stopped, those from above wanting to join the lower levels. Smiling and friendly in their eagerness to be part of the successful, fun faction in marked contrast to earlier. One woman said Fitzpatrick wanted to meet with Chloe.

"I'll go," Max offered, wanting the chance to be useful.

"Thanks," Chloe responded and smiled affectionately at her. Despite all their history, Max was moved by Chloe's trust in her. There were no qualifications or restrictions, just the assumption that Max would deal with whatever the issue was. Not since they had been separated had anyone had that faith in her, not even Max herself.

The woman, young but overweight and unfit enough that returning up to the reception winded her, seemed not to want to speak. They both paused in the lobby. It smelled of blood and burnt fur. The doors were shut and duct taped across, in addition to a barricade. Blood and scratches marred the glass.

Despite the fight that had taken place, the area's role as a meeting place remained. A man was describing to a woman where the hyenas had reached, gesticulating dramatically as he told of the Horizons staff charging. Beyond the windows, the sky was darkening in strange shades of purple and burnt orange. Lightning flickered from low clouds.

"Come on," the woman said. "Fitzpatrick's going to be pissed as it is that I'm bringing just you."

Max shrugged and indicated the woman should continue, yet her escort sighed and only reluctantly resumed the ascension through the building. Three more flights of stairs had Max breathless and the other woman sweating and panting.

"There's got to be a better way than this to communicate," her escort gasped, pushed the door open to the third floor and flopped into the first seat she came to. Here were offices of a size appropriate for the managers of the Bright Horizons building. The desk the woman had slumped behind said 'Darla Mitchell, Secretary'. A couple of 'employee of the month' certificates were on the wall, although dated two years back. The desk was neatly laid out with a computer terminal, small pot plant and a photo of a slimmer version of her with a smiling man.

Mitchell wheeled back on her chair to a water cooler, filled a mug emblazoned with 'Victoria Falls' and gulped it down in one. She indicated a paper cup dispenser and Max was tempted but did not want to be indebted to the upper floors. Being so mistrustful was difficult and she wondered if the antagonism was self-fulfilling. Treat people as the enemy and they would act accordingly.

But, then, it had not been her being drowned at the instigation of these people.

The plaques on the doors listed the management of the branch, including two she did not know – the head of business acquisition and the head of legal, who must have been away – but the rest were those she had seen. Richard Calderwell, plus letters, head of development, Jacqueline Fitzpatrick, also with degree abbreviations, head of research and, finally, Norman Bortz, director. His was the only one shut.

Calderwell was in his office as well, staring out of the window with his hands behind his back. It was quiet, especially after the party downstairs but there was music coming from his office, Ella Fitzgerald, she thought. If not exactly pop music, his choice of jazz was surprising.

Max went into Fitzpatrick's office, tapping at the door as she did so. Again, her expectations were thrown as the woman had her feet on a mahogany-looking desk and was smoking a cigarette. Max's surprise must have shown as Jackie commented: "I found a pack. Years old and rough as gravel but just what the doctor ordered."

She blew an uneven smoke ring and frowned at it, apparently out of practice. Fitzpatrick indicated a seat and swung her legs off the desk. She had taken her shoes off but now put them back on before facing Max.

"What do you want for making potassium iodide in the lab?" the professor asked, narrowing her eyes as she inhaled from the cigarette.

"Nothing. You can have what you need," Max responded.

"You know, I used to like this job," Fitzpatrick stated and Max wondered where the apparent non-sequitur was going. "Then I got into the management side of it because I could. The job was there, more pay, a female face on the management staff, maybe even get to do things differently.

"This isn't what I enjoy…" the scientist laughed bitterly and spun on her faux-leather chair to open blinds that were drawn across the window behind her. Facing away from the storm, there was a clear view to the horizon, revealing just more red desert and dirty-cream coloured plants.

"Alright, _this_ isn't what I enjoy," she said and seemed transfixed by the view. They were high enough that the angle hid even the car park.

"We should be working together," Max tried.

Fitzpatrick turned back to face her, anger flashing briefly before returning to weariness.

"And will you submit to tests? Will your precious Chloe sit back while we try to figure out what allowed you to bring us here?" Fitzpatrick asked and drew another lung-full of smoke before blowing it towards the ceiling.

"I wish it wasn't this way but only I can get us back," Max replied, while horrified that the woman wanted to dissect her.

"Go on, then," Fitzpatrick responded but rose before Max could object, despite knowing the scientist was aware the device needed power. Even then, there was no guarantee but, like her ability to rewind time, she kept that to herself and the other Pirates.

Fitzpatrick walked out of her office and Max followed, having to guess that was required.

"Maxine Caulfield," Calderwell called from his room. She peered in while Fitzpatrick seemed content to wait. Out the window, the storm already looked closer. Calderwell still had his back to her.

"I rather like this world," he declared, possibly making him unique. "It is a challenge. United, we can tame it. You do need to get us home, however, so we can bring the necessary equipment."

Ella Fitzgerald was singing _Frosty the Snowman_ and Max felt the scene was slipping from surreal to insane.

Fitzpatrick carefully eased open the door to Bortz's office. The blinds were drawn closed there as well and the emergency lighting off, apparently removed. It took Max's eyes a moment to adjust.

It was by far the largest office and furnished predictably: a bigger version of the desk in Fitzpatrick's room, plaques with certificates and a reproduction painting on the wall, guest seats and a side table. Two book shelves with folders listing technical documents on their side – despite Jarrow's failed business, paper was still used by the forest-load. There were few personal details; a foot-high statue of a soccer player and a photograph of the team he must once have played for. Three more photograph holders were on his desk but facing away from her.

It took Max a while to notice Bortz lying on the floor. A make-shift bed had been made from chair backs and clothing.

"He insists its sunstroke or a bug and believes it, or seems to," Fitzpatrick whispered. "I found hair in his trash can. Only a dozen or so strands but more than there should be."

They left the office as quietly as they had entered. The scientist had clearly decided to show Max the first victim of the teleportation but there was nothing she could do. Bortz had been warned repeatedly. Nonetheless, her conscience did sting at another casualty of her ability.

"Tell Price that I'm sorry for my part in this," Fitzpatrick said but evenly, as though telling her to say 'hi'.

With that, Max returned past the secretary, who was playing a game on a data pad, then downstairs.

It was not long after that the edge of the storm hit the building. The lobby and first floor soon had nearly everyone. Max noticed Emma, her bright red hair eye-catching, with Ismail taking the potassium iodide up to Fitzpatrick then returned to looking out the ground floor windows. The state of the hyenas had scared people into understanding that there really was radiation out beyond the car park and were watching the sky and land darken to an early dusk.

Chloe brought a pair of chairs up from the lower levels and they sat together, watching it whirl closer. Others brought seats until it resembled an auditorium.

"You do love your storms, Maxine Caulfield," Chloe smiled.

"You know, I think I may be ready for clear skies and sunshine," Max responded. "How dangerous is this?"

"This is like the hyenas: dangerous only if you don't take precautions," Chloe said, loud enough for others to hear. "The lightning could be an issue," she added after a moment.

Max realized that, despite seeing that they were surrounded by sand, it had not registered that they were the only tall object from horizon to horizon.

"There are lightning conductors though," Max said uncertainly.

"Let's hope Bright Horizons didn't skimp on them," Chloe grinned at her.

The employees of Bright Horizons and Warden Security were used to being busy, at least according to the snippets of conversation Max had heard. Almost like automatons, many seemed lost with their computers off and no internet connection for portable devices. As with those playing cards, some found ways of entertaining themselves and there was an old-style paper magazine being passed around for reading but the chance of watching the storm was too good to miss.

People talked about wishing they had popcorn and there was nervousness that grew as the outside darkened and the emergency lighting became relatively bright.

Chloe stood up and faced those assembled. She scowled and Max turned to see Scarrow at the back. The erstwhile leader of the Warden guards looked a mess with his face yellow and black around his bandaged nose. Scarrow stared back without rancor, although whether he was hiding it was impossible to know.

Max returned her attention to Chloe, pacing with the storm as a backdrop. Too thin, wearing cheap jeans and a bland, light grey T-shirt that lacked any pattern but emphasized the tattoos on her arm, Max thought how magnificent she appeared. Noticing Max looking at her, Chloe smiled in response, the anger going from her mien.

"The storm isn't strong so shouldn't be a problem but this building is hardly where it is supposed to be," Chloe stated. "It's also coming in from the… that direction." She pointed to the right. "So, the front won't take the brunt but, if the glass does break, we head downstairs in an orderly manner. There's no need to run," she frowned at them as though expecting them to.

"Now, enjoy the show. Unfortunately, the concessionary stand is closed," Chloe added then sat back down, with another grin for Max and took her hand.

The 'show' was more frightening than Max had envisaged. Lightning flashed in the darkness, accompanied by an almost constant rumble of thunder. It was the wind that was most disturbing, however, howling like a banshee trying to find a way in. There was no reason for the building to be air tight and the hurricane whistled and screeched through the gaps. Even with duct tape, the doors rattled so hard they seemed certain to shake loose of its fittings. The building itself groaned, hit by unhindered gales.

The notion that Chloe and Emma had voluntarily jumped into something similar was awe-inspiring. Chloe was sprawled in her seat watching the storm while caressing Max's hand.

"I don't usually get to see them," Chloe said, leaning over to be heard of the keening of the wind and the thunder that was now overhead.

The glass was becoming scratched so much that what had been transparent was now horizontally scored.

"Tiny bits of rusted iron get brought to the surface," Chloe informed her, apparently noticing where she was looking. "The top layer can still strip the flesh from a person when it's whipped up fast enough but the grains are smooth."

"As long as it stays out there, it's incredible," Max responded. With the dust thrown up, the lightning flashes were diffused, briefly brightening areas of the storm. The building shuddered, vibrating and alarming Max as well as everyone else.

"Probably a lightning strike hitting," Chloe said. "If this gets any worse, we'll have to head downstairs. People have had their entertainment anyway." She tilted her head. "No: its passing."

To Max, it looked as powerful as ever but it was long before the storm began dying down. The howling noise quietened, the crack of thunder muted, the dust less dense.

"Did you not find that even a little scary?" Max asked and Chloe looked at her askance.

"Of course, Max! Why do you think I was holding your hand?" she grinned then pressed Max's hand to above her chest where she could feel Chloe's heart thumping. "OK, now it might be racing for another reason," she smirked and they looked into each other's eyes for a minute until the presence of the employees intruded. Behind them, people were talking excitedly, like having been on a roller coaster or horror movie.

"Back to work, I guess," Chloe said and kissed Max's hand before releasing it.

"Larry and Ken, can you see if the cleaning bots have enough power to sweep up any sand that got in? Everyone else, check the floors for damage. We're going upstairs to check," Chloe announced.

Those from the higher levels had congregated on the first floor, without the sense of it being a show. Several were still stood at the windows, while others appeared visibly shaken. Max could sympathize. For all that she was an outsider and partly responsible for the situation, Chloe appeared to have brought unity to those downstairs, if only because she had knowledge of Telkia.

Yet that only seemed to deepen the division for some of those present, scowling, hiding drinks and generally seeing her and Chloe as a threat.

"All good up here?" Chloe asked. No-one responded and even those who nodded or shrugged did so in a manner that suggested they were betraying their team.

The windows were as scratched as downstairs but otherwise everything appeared undamaged. Max could see below that the car park was now covered by the red sand, with patches of black asphalt showing where the vehicles had acted as breakers. The sand had piled on the other side up to the door handles in places.

She and Chloe went up to the second floor, consisting again of a series of rooms with desks and almost bumped into the secretary, Mitchell.

"Oh," she said. "I guess you may as well know the third floor is gone."

"Gone?" Max queried.

"Of course not completely," Mitchell explained, "but one of the windows broke and sand got in. They say it's radioactive."

"Did Bortz and the others get out?" Max asked.

"The director and the two department heads are now on this floor," Mitchell informed her, emphasizing the titles.

"I'm fine! Stop fussing!" came the director's annoyed voice. "For heaven's sake, I just needed a rest."

Bortz, with Fitzpatrick trailing, entered from the same door as Mitchell, then stopped at seeing Chloe and her.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Max caught herself checking his hair but the man looked healthy, aside from dark patches under his eyes and she had no doubt her own were as bad.

"Safety check," Chloe responded. "The third floor is lost?"

For a moment, it seemed like he would not reply but did so and without bluster.

"I was considering our next move when one of the windows blew in. It funneled the wind and knocked a pane out on the other side too. Darla, how long has the expedition been gone?"

"Coming up on ten hours, Mr. Bortz," Mitchell answered.

"Let me know when they return," he instructed then looked at Max and Chloe. "Jackie, we had best start rationing water. And food." Bortz looked out of the window and smiled. Max turned and saw blue sky, albeit fading with dusk. Although there was still plenty of cloud and the sun remained obscured, the patch of normality was comforting.

"Everything will work out," Bortz declared and, looking at that blue, Max could believe it.

FIVE

Chloe gasped and writhed, her breath coming fast and hard. Her heart pounded as though to burst.

"I love you, Chloe, I love you," Max's voice came to her.

"You're safe. It's OK, Chloe, I'm here and we're in bed and we're safe."

She came fully awake yet the nightmare did not quite let her go. She had been drowning again, unable to breathe, fighting futilely for life but failing and water pouring into her yet slowly, like tar, and then tearing into her stomach.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled and Max hugged her close. The panic receded.

"Oh, Chloe, don't be," Max cried and there were tears on her cheeks.

It had been three days since the storm and each of the nights had been the same: dreaming of drowning. On waking, it faded slowly and some of the incongruities that her subconscious had accepted faded. The pain in her stomach was from having half a candy bar and a few chips for each of the last four days. Scarrow was not impossibly in the water laughing at her. People had not been surrounding her being submerged and eating appetizers while discussing how long she would last.

"I gave up," Chloe whispered against Max's chest. "The last time, when the lights went out, I thought it was punishment for being with you."

"We were rescued," Max told her firmly. "So, there goes that theory."

Chloe closed her eyes for a moment but even that felt frightening, as though to sleep was to bring the nightmare again. They stayed that way for a long time but there was no hurry. The last three days had been the same, hours of nothing to do but think about food. Most of the batteries to the data pads and smart glasses had drained. Everyone felt weak and weary. The idea of eating paper mashed into a pulp had yet to be implement but it could not be far off. There weren't even any cigarettes to take the edge off her appetite, which hardly improved her mood.

Outside was unchanging. More sand accumulated against the cars and the building but otherwise the desert stretched to the horizon in all directions, at which line dirty grey-brown clouds took over. Only briefly on the morning after the storm had it been clear, with their first view of normal daylight since leaving home. The clouds had rolled back in and had not unchanged.

After the fight against the hyenas and then watching the storm, several of those from upstairs had joined Chloe's underground faction and now both were almost even at twenty-five each. Since then, however, the animosity had grown. Those above had eaten what they had on the first day, mostly according to what they had brought to work. Each day since, people had come begging for food from the lower level. Chloe had found it hard to turn them away but what choice was there? She was almost glad that today would be the last meal as she could honestly say there was nothing left.

Of course, they did not simply accept 'no' as an answer and walk back upstairs. They pleaded, threatened and got others to ask on their behalf.

This person had intended to go out for lunch, so had brought nothing. Chloe brought them here then took their food. Parents whose children needed them to survive.

Eventually, Chloe could not take turning them away, sometimes with tears and disbelief in their eyes as though she was feasting every day. She had abdicated responsibility after two of her group had requested food for their friends. Every member of the Bright Horizons staff in her group would hold a secret ballot for each person from upstairs who wanted food or to join them and thereby get a ration. Chloe felt a coward for avoiding the responsibility but she was tired of being the villain to people she had warned about consuming everything in one go. The last straw had been overhearing Ismail say: "I would let you have some but it's not my decision".

Well, it was now. Chloe had shown them the small closet guarded by Ken and a Warden with what was left.

"They are your colleagues. Every one you admit is less for everyone and makes it harder to turn others away but do as you will," she had finally told them. There might have been expletives too but it had been hard enough not eating the food as soon as seeing it.

Of course, that was unpopular too. Suddenly, she was right to turn people away. The Warden guards, led by Luna, objected to not having a say. With a few hours to possibly the last food they would eat, none of the votes had passed

Emma complained that Scarrow was getting a share and it had been difficult to persuade her of the necessity to keep the Warden guards in line yet not united. They had argued, reminiscent of being stuck in the trailer at Cowl's encampment. Emotionally, she agreed with Emma about refusing Scarrow food so much it made her arguments for the opposite more strident. It was all too easy to recall his smug face in front of her, deciding enough talking had passed for form's sake so he could start the waterboarding. Only when Emma was hollding her had Chloe realized she had slipped into a reverie about Scarrow standing beside the table as she had been brought up for air.

Sat in Max's embrace with their last meal a few hours away, Chloe made a decision.

"Max, its nearly five days since Obix left. I'll give it the whole week but then I can't see how he would be gone that long and survived without being able to bring help. I think one of the cars is sheltered enough not to have too much sand in it so I'm going to take it and hope to find someone to rescue you, Emma and the others."

"No," Max said.

"We will starve here," Chloe explained. "I'll be running away."

"You'll be killing yourself for no reason, especially as the water will last weeks," Max responded. "There's always hope. You are not leaving me, Chloe Price. If you go, I go."

"You have to stay and look after Emma," Chloe said. "Only you can get everyone home."

"No," Max repeated and hugged her tighter. Chloe lacked the strength to insist, knowing how much pain it would cause Max and Emma.

The morning passed. Lunch was eaten and Ken no longer needed to guard the closet. Chloe felt better for eating but knew it would not last. It had been a subdued meal, eating downstairs away from the Bright Horizons staff from upstairs. Unlike the earlier ones, everyone seemed to want to consume the last meal only with those they were closest to. Emma and Osira had joined them, silently consuming the last confectionary bar and chips. Chloe longed to give some speech to uplift them or even to say how important they were. Her body seemed to be screaming for more sustenance.

It was Max who broke the silence.

"Osira, tell us about how you and Obix rescued us," she prompted. Like the rest of them, Osira had scraped the wrapper clean and was now staring at it as though wondering whether to eat it as well.

"There's very little to tell," Osira said, looking up. They were all sat on the floor in Max and Chloe's room as somewhere relatively private. Apparently prepared to leave it at that, Emma nudged her and Osira gave a resigned nod.

"Of course, Obix refused all food and the insistence of those who brought it made me suspicious but only after I had already eaten a sandwich. Given our present predicament, perhaps it was still the right thing to do. I awoke in a closet with Obix not far from the room with the machine. Lacking reason not to, Obix would have simply followed directions, which may have caused the guards to consider him of low intellect.

"For whatever reason, they seemed to dismiss both Obix and I. On coming to, I tried to reason with _it_ that we were in danger but, despite my programming, Obix decided that law enforcement was detaining us for legitimate reasons. I was having difficulty explaining that the Warden people are not official, especially as he had seen on your internet the mixing of private and public security. I was telling him that by stealing Maxine's machine they were violating the law but I do not think he… _it_…"

Osira sighed and paused, head down while going over something in her head. Max waited for her to continue.

"I do not think he was accepting that it was justification to counter their restraint of us. That ended when he heard you. We were far enough away – the other side of the stairs – that I could hear nothing of what was occurring but Obix's head turned from listening to me, then adjusted his hands to slip the bindings on his wrists, snapped my restraints almost as an afterthought and took off down the corridor.

"The hard-int of a mech to protect human life takes precedence over all soft-int. However, in a remarkably short time Obix's soft-int has started to prioritize your safety and concerns over that of others, aside from mine and legality aside. In human terms, Obix has become fond of you all.

"Obviously, I considered erasing this preference. I decided there was no hurry and it was something to work on once I returned to Telkia."

"Oh," Max said. "Well, I'm glad you decided to wait."

Osira frowned.

"Once he understood you were in danger, Obix would have rescued you regardless. His subsequent actions have been troubling, however." Osira stared up towards where the outer doors were, her normally silken black hair lank.

"I do hope he is alright."

Chloe considered that Osira was the only one hoping the mech was fine for reasons other than their rescue. The soft-int specialist's recount of her side of Obix saving them had hardly engendered more conversation and all seemed reflective when there was a knock at the already open door. Luna filled the entranceway.

"We have company," he announced, clearly teasing them with the limited information.

"Obix?" Chloe asked but Osira answered.

"No, I have a short-range tracker embedded and would know if he was within ten kilometers."

"Dust cloud from several vehicles, coming in from the east if the egg-heads' compasses are accurate," Luna explained.

"Obix went… west?" Max checked, trying to figure how the front doors pointed. Luna nodded.

"And Bortz's band almost due south," he added. "It doesn't mean they have to come back the same way though."

"It's trouble," Chloe decided, standing. Osira gave a phlegmatic nod, as though it being otherwise was not possible. "Hide everyone."

"A show of strength might dissuade them from attacking," Luna declared.

"We don't have any," Chloe responded. "Unless our luck has changed greatly, they will see we are not fighters. Besides, at this point, we need a fight."

Max looked at her curiously then seemed to understand without being told that there was a chance of taking what the travelers brought. Trading was a slim possibility but there was almost nothing of use. They needed some of what those driving to investigate had with them.

"Time to earn your pay, Luna," Chloe declared and he snorted, half-amused. "You'll be with me but your people need to keep the others out of the way. If it comes to a fight, we'll try to hit them from both sides but we need to see what we're facing."

Between the mouthful of food and the thought that there was something she could do, Chloe felt better. A last throw of the dice that she could influence.

"Emma, I need the gun, please," Chloe said and Emma went to fetch the weapon while Luna was already hurrying off to give his orders.

"I'll be with you," Max stated and held off Chloe's objections with: "you know my power will be vital."

Chloe's mind scrambled for an argument but came up short.

"Stay at the reception desk. It will give you more chance to change things," Chloe agreed. "Oz, is there anything way you can help?"

"My combat skills are limited," Osira admitted. "If they have tech I can attempt to access it. I will stay with Maxine at the desk."

Chloe nodded her appreciation after a moment of weighing the pros and cons. Emma returned with Scarrow's pistol and Chloe tucked it uncomfortably into the waist of her jeans.

"Emma, like at Moshies, stay out of sight, along with anyone else young."

"I'll wait at the stairwell with the Warden guards there," Emma declared.

"OK Pirates, one more dance," Chloe grinned and led them out.

Upstairs, Norman Bortz, Richard Calderwell and Jackie Fitzpatrick were already waiting. Wardens hurried past them to the upper stairs.

"You don't think we would leave negotiations to you, do you?" Bortz smiled condescendingly but his appearance shocked Chloe. She had not seen him since before the storm and in the intervening period his skin had taken on a waxy, grey aspect while there were clumps of hair missing from his head. His voice rasped as he spoke. The director was back to wearing his full suit, including jacket, but the clothes hung loosely on his frame as though a child was had put on their parents' clothes.

"Want me to remove them, boss?" Luna asked, coming up behind her.

"Just try," Bortz sneered, which would have been comical in other circumstances given how he looked like an invalid while Luna retained his athletic body despite the rations.

"No," Chloe sighed. "This is going to be difficult enough without us fighting each other."

Outside, a massive eight-wheeled vehicle pulled up. It was not what Chloe had been expecting. The tires were almost as tall as most of the cars in the park and was coloured red to match the sand, albeit with jagged black lines for additional camouflage. Angular, with only slits for visibility, it was a military machine but the lack of markings squashed any hope that Obix had found a government willing to help them.

Chloe glanced back at Max and Osira peering over the reception desk. It was dark enough, far from the fading emergency lights on the walls, that they should be difficult to detect.

"I know you believe you know best," Bortz rasped, "but business trading is my expertise. Just keep quiet and let me do the talking."

Chloe looked at him in alarm but a side door was opening on the vehicle. The transport was as tall as the first floor of the Bright Horizons building, although the armour was showing signs of abrasion on the edges. Three people stepped out wearing burgundy rad-suits of a quality Chloe had barely seen before. Whereas she had worn something akin to a lead-lined sack, these appeared to be fitted with sensors, water recyclers and energy packs. The clothing was body fitting and the shape indicated the visitors were men. All were armed with rail rifles and side-arms.

They strode up to the front door as their vehicle closed behind them and then could not enter without smashing through the windows.

Evidently opening the doors was beneath Bortz and would demonstrate his superiority so Chloe and Luna peeled the duct tape off then forced them apart. Given how much sand had got into the mechanism, Chloe wondered if the director would actually have managed to open the doors, given his deterioration.

With the doors closed again, one of the men held his arm up in front of his chest and Bortz did the same in greeting. The man nodded to those with him with his action clearly reading the safety of the room rather than saluting negotiators. Bortz coughed, unsuccessfully hiding a red-specked cloth as he covered his mouth.

The men all had crew cut hair and a silver band perhaps half an inch wide around their heads. The leader was fairly short, not even Chloe's height, with clean shaven mid-brown skin and strong features, including wide jaw and cheekbones. His henchmen, paler and narrower faced were possibly brothers as there was a similarity to them.

"Norman Bortz, Director," the Bright Horizons sector head introduced himself. "What brings you here?"

Arguing with him or trying to hold two separate talks was going to be counterproductive.

"Veddan," the man responded. His gaze was hard as he checked the room before returning his attention to Bortz. "There's a building deep in the Wastes. Why do you think I am here?"

"I hope your travels so far have been beneficial," Bortz responded and continued after Veddan did not take the opportunity to make small talk. "We require transportation to the nearest habitation. In return, we have several computers we can trade," Bortz said.

"How many people?" Veddan asked. "What type of computers?"

"Who you see here," Bortz answered and Chloe looked at him askance. There was no way she was getting into that vehicle. "There are others but we can come back for them.

"Get a PC," Bortz urged Luna. The Warden looked at Chloe, who shrugged but appreciated him checking with her first. He strolled to the reception desk and returned with a computer terminal. Veddan stared at it, then Bortz, before indicating Luna should hand it to one of the men behind him. Luna's lazy expression did not change but Chloe detected a tightening in his muscles from his displeasure at being treated as a laborer.

"This works on electricity?" the man behind Veddan queried, turning the rectangular computer case in his hands.

"Of course…" Bortz said slowly. Calderwell, who had been scowling, perked up like a dog hearing a can open.

"Useless, then," the man declared and handed it back.

"Wasters might give you something but even their equipment is mostly photon-based," Veddan commented, evidently curious as to why they were still on electricity. "Anything else?"

Bortz opened his mouth but he had nothing to offer. Chloe's concern was that Veddan would know they really did have nothing.

"We have… water," Bortz said having at least gathered that the liquid was valuable. "Clean."

"Twenty liters per person," Veddan nodded. "As far as Dead Star Station."

"Twenty for two," Bortz countered and Veddan stared at him, considering, then nodded. The Bright Horizons people breathed a sigh of relief. Even Luna seemed more relaxed.

"Please give us a few minutes," Bortz said and walked to the doorway to the first floor with Fitzpatrick behind. Chloe hurried after them, leaving Calderwell and Luna in the lobby.

In the stairwell, Bortz was doubled over, coughing and shaking. Chloe turned her attention to Fitzpatrick.

"Have I ever lied to you?" she demanded.

"How can I know?" Fitzpatrick retorted. "Nothing you've been caught out on."

"This is a mistake," Chloe stated.

"Based on what?" Bortz wheezed. "Suspicion and division are your life…" He began coughing wetly again.

"Based on fucking being here before," Chloe snapped and forced herself to be calm. Everything rode on this moment. "At best, they will kill whoever you send. Just look at them. They're a mercenary company as obviously as if they had 'mercs for hire' plastered on their vehicles. Do you think they are going to ferry people when they don't have to?

"And the computers. Do you really think they are completely worthless? They might not be of direct use but there are enough components to sell to someone. Even the cases are worth something."

"You heard him," Fitzpatrick countered. "They don't use electricity."

Chloe shook her head.

"You are still thinking in terms where obsolete things are thrown away," she said. "Reclaimers would take every bit of metal in a computer and use it. Instead, you've traded gallons of our most precious resource."

"What choice do we have?" Bortz shouted and then wheezed for breath. "Go. Go back to your people. I will try to save mine," he gasped.

"We will give half the water," Chloe sighed. Perhaps she was wrong but, even then, how could more help be brought?

Fitzpatrick helped him back up the stairs.

"Will you do me one favour?" Chloe asked and the pair halted but did not turn. "Please do not send women."

Whether it was because only men volunteered or that Bortz accepted Chloe's plea was plausible, the two to go were male. Of course, it was not impossible that they would be raped, just less likely. Just once, just _once_ she wanted to be proved wrong when expecting the worst.

She avoided going downstairs and waited in the foyer to try to get a better sense of the mercenaries. They could easily just storm the building and take anything they wanted.

"They should have let you negotiate," Luna commented, watching the mercenaries. She was familiar enough with him now to know he distrusted them too, perhaps picking up on the same sense of danger from the mercenaries as she had.

"That's just it," Chloe sighed, sinking into a chair. Hunger seemed a constant gnawing already. "I don't know how much better I could do. Part of me is glad not to have been forced to make the decision. I would have goaded them into attacking, if I could. They have Konex rail guns. We have one pistol with eight rounds."

"There has to be more of them," Luna stated. Veddan and his two henchmen were near the windows in conversation but the Warden kept his voice down.

Chloe nodded and Luna continued.

"Just like us, they will be hiding their true strength. I do not like this," he admitted.

"If they are being straight," Chloe said, "and they're the one Telkia merc band who aren't vicious, self-serving cutthroats, then it needs to be me going. If they are murderers, rapists and thieves, then I need to be here to help the defence. At least, that's how I'll justify it to myself."

"You can't go," Luna snorted. "It's not your deal and we need your knowledge. Fuck, I never thought I would say this but, we need _you_."

Chloe raised an eyebrow at him and smiled wryly, unsure whether to believe him.

"How's your shooting," she asked.

"Marksman." No elaboration. No bragging. Just the statement. She handed him the pistol and he accepted it with a nod.

"I wondered where that went," Luna said. With his back to the mercenaries, he checked the safety and magazine.

Unlike Bortz Expedition, the two men from upstairs left without fanfare, carrying jugs of water.

"When you get to the Station, explain to whoever will listen that we will work and trade for help," Chloe told them while feeling like she was telling people walking to gallows they would be fine. Both looked scared but nodded. Bortz was not present, with Fitzpatrick and Calderwell representing him instead.

The mercenaries walked to the vehicle with the two men and climbed in.

"I wish we had some food or something to give them," Fitzpatrick said.

"Jackson there was stuffing ramen noodles down his face the first day," Calderwell countered but then his shoulders slumped and quietly agreed: "Yes."

The two Horizons men looked back at the building then the vehicles door closed, swallowing them.

"I noticed none of your people volunteered," Fitzpatrick told Luna, contempt in her tone.

"No and you may yet be glad of that," Luna responded, watching the vehicle pull away in a spray of sand.

SIX

Emma had been through lean patches before but nothing had prepared her for the agony of her stomach feeling like it was eating itself. Tired and, for the first time, cold, she took to being upstairs on the second floor where the sun better heated the rooms. She was in no way welcome there but the complaining of the staff annoyed her more than their stares.

Ismail was beside her again and evidently more uncomfortable with the others' opinion. He worked with and for them but it was hardly the time for such concerns. Emma had expected them to pull together far sooner but the views of those present concentrated and congealed. They blamed her, Chloe, Max and Osira for their predicament, which was not unjustified. During the first couple of days, the hostility was pronounced, with vitriolic statements about forcing Max to send them home, which had concerned Emma until she understood they had no intention of following through.

With dusk rapidly descending across the land, already the heat was fading. The near constant cloud cover meant the night retained much of the warmth but it was time to return downstairs. Veddan, his mercenaries and the two Bright Horizons employees had been gone the eight hours from after lunch to now. Despite her faith in Chloe-mom and Max-mom, it was starting to feel like the desert would swallow them whole.

Ismail was telling her of their home together. It involved him working so she could study - with few details on what – as he had a degree from something called 'MIT' so would have a good job. He seemed certain she would make plenty of friends and would show her all the sights of Earth, from theme parks to 'the Alamo', unless that was not her 'thing'. Emma could not tell if it was what he truly wanted or a way of reminding himself of his home.

He was handsome and intelligent – possibly not quite as much as thought – while kissing him had been very nice before hunger sapped the desire for more than sitting with his arm around her. Against that, he clung tightly to the other world and refused to understand that taking this one seriously was necessary for getting back. His desire to placate and keep a foot in both camps should have been a benefit but she had overheard Ismail agreeing with another emploiyee that their presence in Telkia was Max-mom's fault.

"Of course, you are right," he had told her. "None of this would have happened without the actions of the Warden people." His earnest brown eyes had been so remorseful that she had allowed herself to be placated.

Home. Where she would have no purpose.

"We should go back," Emma announced in a break in his description of how knowledge of this world would fuel his success back on Earth. This would allow a swimming pool, which – she admitted – did sound a wondrous thing. At least he was not describing the meals that were available on Earth

"I will stay with you, tonight," Ismail declared but querulously. It was something he had tried before.

"No," Emma refused but smiled and lightly kissed him to take the sting from the word. It was tempting and more so if they were doomed but she was accustomed to sleeping alone. Contraceptives were rare on Telkia due to low fertility rates and Emma was uncertain anyway. Chloe-mom had explained reproduction to her early – albeit in her usual humorous way – and then left the choice to her.

The remaining emergency lights in the building were now brighter than outside, making the windows squares of black with reflections of them and the room.

"But keep asking," Emma added, which did brighten his face pleasingly.

Walking downstairs, past the first floor, she reflected that some of her hesitation about bedding Ismail came from Chloe-mom and Max-mom. Seeing them reunited reinforced the idea that Emma should feel something like they did.

Ismail held her hand, smiling as they reached the door to the reception area. 'Exit' was in illuminated lettering.

"Let's check the lobby," Emma suggested, perhaps perversely wanting to delay their separating downstairs. Osira was not present, away from her usual place of the old waiting area, but two of the Wardens were present at the counter. They still angered her but she managed a curt nod as they noticed her. A few others were on the chairs, chatting quietly. It was not late but sleep had become a way of passing the time and even forgetting their hunger. A data pad was playing gentle music, as the researchers had managed to form a chemical reaction that would recharge the batteries. It ruined the batteries in the long run but that was hardly a concern.

The doors to the outside exploded inwards.

One bounced off the side wall, the other spun towards the chairs. Resistant, the glass cracked into spider webs without shattering. A large red vehicle hurtled into the lobby, its top screeching against the top of the door frame, which then buckled.

Emma was already pulling the stairwell door open.

"We're under attack!" she yelled. "Arm yourselves!"

No-one had thought of an alarm. No bell or pans to bang together. Predictably, those trained reacted quickest: Luna, the other Wardens, Chloe-mom and Osira.

"To the lobby door," Chloe-mom ordered. "When one enters, throw him down the stairs. Larry, Ken, at sub one and bash the bastard's brains out. Don't hesitate. They will take our people if you do. Kath! Kathleen, get everyone who will fight here, those who can't to sub three…"

Emma had no time to hear more as she dashed past them onto the first sub-basement to the laboratories. Only a few were working and looked surprised to see her.

"Explosives, now!" she demanded. "Be ready to pass them up."

To their credit, they did as instructed, handing her two beakers carefully scored so they would break on impact. They had half a dozen of the makeshift, two-part explosives. After Scarrow's pistol, they were their only real weapon. A pause to check they were moving to supply more, then she was dashing down the corridor back to the stairwell.

A rad-suited figure came tumbling down the stairs, landing at Larry and Ken's feet like an unwanted gift. Both stared at the man hesitantly, not using the poles with screwdrivers they were armed with. The mercenary began staggering to his feet. With both hands full, Emma shouldered him and, barely balanced, he went tumbling down the stairwell towards sub-basement two. She felt her grip slip on a flask and carefully increased pressure without breaking the weakened container.

"If you can't do it, find someone else," Emma told them but wondered if there was anyone else. Emma had not killed anyone and most of these people had probably never even thrown a punch. She was needed elsewhere.

The top of the stairs was lined with people, all against the left side. Luna and Chloe-mom nearest the door, Osira with a rail gun taken from the man who had been thrown down the steps, then Max-mom, her nose dripping blood. How often had she rewound time? Once? Twice? Thrice? How many more could she do? Osira with the rail gun confused her momentarily until she realized the int-soft specialist was trying to get round the genetic lock on the weapon.

In the tension before the next attacker appeared, Emma realized Ismail was not present.

Luna had his ear pressed against the door. It was close fitting but not air tight and Emma could hear the rising whine-thud of rail guns. That and screams. Even with her frustration at the Bright Horizons staff and more so with those on the upper floors, it was difficult to do nothing.

"Sounds like they found another way up," Luna commented. "Probably the elevator shaft."

"Or they could stand on the vehicles and almost walk straight onto the first floor," Osira suggested, without taking her attention from the rail rifle.

"Think these bastards have night-vision?" Luna queried quietly.

"Almost certainly," Chloe answered, nodding. "I'll go."

Hardly had Chloe-mom gone to get a torch when the door opened. Being for emergencies, it opened outwards into the lobby and from their right.

The mercenary did everything correct, standing back, gun not too far forward but they were ready for him. Luna came up from a crouch just before the door swung open enough to reveal him and the others. He grabbed the gun with both hands, yanked hard and nearly fell backwards down the stairs as the mercenary let go of the rifle. The door began slowly closing on Emma's view of the man drawing a pistol and she hurled both stoppered beakers overhand at the gap.

There was a blazing red explosion that flashed into the stair well to the point where Emma thought for a moment that she had hit the door instead of getting the flasks through the space. Scarlet flames flicked against the right wall and then vanished. The door's hinges resisted closing faster and Luna pushed it back open to grab the mercenary.

Emma caught a glimpse of the man on his knees, rad suit shredded with some of the lead lining melted. His chest was a mess of blood, burnt flesh and thick clothing fused together. The man appeared unable to breathe, clawing at the hood, tattered as far as the eye sockets.

Then a rail gun round smashed the top of the door into splinters.

Emma glanced at Max-mom, who gave an 'OK' with the fingers of one hand and nodded. No time rewind had been required. Some part of her registered that she had taken a life but understanding and coping with that would have to come later.

Max-mom moved up between them, blood now leaking from her nose faster and darkening the pale T-shirt she wore. There was just enough time to wonder what was happening or had happened when Max caught a grenade, knowing exactly where it would be, and hurled the weapon back through the wrecked door. Everyone flattened to the steps, although Max-mom looked to almost fall rather than lie down.

The explosion thundered into the stairwell, leaving Emma's ear's ringing. Through the doorway any vision was obscured by dust.

"Hit them!" Luna ordered.

"No," gasped Max-mom, barely audible. "Down. Hurry." She passed out. _So much blood. Let her only be unconscious._

Luna looked like he was going to charge forward, pistol drawn while the mercenaries were disorientated by the explosion but put the weapon in his waist band and picked Max up in his arms. Despite being a decade older, the woman seemed almost childlike in his arms, head lolling. Emma wanted to check on her or help but there was not even a second to spare for the woman who could rewind time.

They reached the first turn in the stairwell towards sub-basement one and the entrance above them exploded. Somehow, Luna managed to twist enough to protect Max as the force of it slammed them against the wall. No chance for gratitude. Emma got unsteadily to her feet, dust and debris falling off as she did so. The air had been knocked from her lungs but she staggered on with Luna carrying Max-mom and Osira, now holding two inoperable rail guns.

They met Chloe-mom, Larry and Ken at the entrance to sub-basement one. Both the night watchmen looked as scared as she felt but they were still at their posts. A handful of the Bright Horizons people and Wardens were present as well, with makeshift weapons that seemed pathetically inadequate. A researcher handed her an improvised grenade: two weakened flasks with liquid tied to a metal stick.

"We go to sub two," Chloe decided. "Osira, go to sub three. Larry and Ken, take Max to sub-three as well then come back up to two with as many fighters as you can. Emma, go left and clear everyone down to sub two. I'll go right. Luna, cover us. Keep this door open until we're gone."

Emma sprinted down the corridor, ears still ringing from the explosion. Chloe-mom went the opposite direction. She opened doors and shouted at scared people to get downstairs. In the laboratory, she instructed them to take the improvised explosives with them. A few wanted information but most simply did as they were told. They were learning. Late but the Horizon's staff were learning.

Behind her, she could hear Luna's pistol fire twice.

Emma opened the door to an office and nearly left before noticing a woman about her age crouched in the corner, shaking. She had seen but not talked with her before, just another Bright Horizons employee.

"Go!" Emma yelled and the woman shook her head. Emma knelt in front of her.

"You have to, they will take you," she explained.

The woman huddled down tighter and Emma slapped her, fear and adrenalin making it harder than she intended. With a shocked look and rubbing her cheek, the woman got to her feet. Not waiting to see if she actually left, Emma checked the last couple of research rooms filled with inactive computers and other now useless equipment. Then sprinting back, Chloe striding towards her from the other direction with another double tap of shots from Luna, meeting at Ken's desk.

Smoke and dust were in the stairwell and the whine-thud of rail gun shots came from above, followed by chunks of masonry exploding over the Warden as he lay prone.

"We're moving down," Chloe told him, kicking a wedge away from under the door that someone put to jam it open.

Emma and Chloe went down the stairs from sub-basement one, hurrying to sub-basement two. Another pair of shots, thunderous in the confines of the stairwell, then Luna was taking the steps three at a time to join them at the door.

"I got one for certain," Luna stated but shrugged. For all that they had dealt with at least three of the attackers, they had no idea how many remained and had been pushed back. They were now separated on the stairwell from the upper floors and those who were with Bortz.

"Thoughts?" Chloe asked the Warden, although they were all peering up where the sound of firing had ceased.

"We fight here and from sub three," Luna replied. "There's no point in retreating much further so it's our best chance of a cross-fire, of sorts." Emma had heard sub-basement four used to consist of an emergency generator and other equipment but the rest of the building had crushed it when teleported, making sub three as far as they could go.

Luna pulled open the door to sub-basement two and stopped. Emma peered round him and Emma to see Scarrow pointing a gun at them.

"Do come in," Scarrow said, backing up. Larry and Ken were lying unconscious on the floor, the former with a bloody lip. Also on the ground was the half-stripped mercenary Scarrow had taken the pistol from.

"Are you fucking insane?" Luna demanded.

"John, it's you who betrayed me. I would truly love to shoot you all for getting me into this but, instead, here's the deal: I get the suit, you get to die to whoever else it is you've annoyed," Scarrow declared. His nose was still bandaged with livid yellow and black bruising covering much of his face. Despite his superficially reasonable tone and the thickness of speaking with his nose smashed, there was no mistaking his anger.

"Piss off before I tell Luna to waste a bullet on you," Chloe said advancing a step.

Scarrow depressed the firing lever, smiling as he did so.

Chloe snatched the weapon from his hand as he looked astounded and handed it to Emma to give to Osira. Her mother tried to punch Scarrow in his already battered face but he easily avoided it then turned to run. Chloe caught his ankle with her foot and he went sprawling.

"Wrong way, asshole," she growled.

"John, we're friends," Scarrow tried, getting to his feet. "We fought at Hill 488 together."

"Just go, Tyler," Luna said wearily.

"Go where?" Fear joined anger in his voice.

"Up, before they get into sub one," Luna told him and Scarrow paused before running past them and taking the stairs two at a time.

Emma wished Luna had shot him but then wondered if she would be able to kill even Scarrow when he was defenceless. The image of the mercenary dying to the explosives she had thrown was bad enough.

There was the whine-thud sound that Emma was starting to loathe hearing and Scarrow tumbled back down with blood pouring out of a massive injury to his chest. He barely looked human any more. For all that she had wished for it to happen to him, seeing a human being who had been talking a few seconds ago as a carcass blasted apart by a rail gun slug was shocking.

"Emma," Chloe cried and pulled her into the corridor. A grenade came bouncing down and Chloe slammed the door shut. The explosion came a second later but far enough towards sub-basement three that it only rattled the door.

"They will clear sub one first," Luna stated as there was another pause.

Chloe checked on Larry and Ken. Luna donned the red rad suit then found he could no longer hold the pistol while wearing the gloves and picked up a screwdriver spear instead. Chloe took the gun and looked at it as though considering using the last two bullets on them to prevent capture. There were only a couple other Horizons staff with weapons on sub-basement two with most of them apparently gone to the bottom level. They dragged the two security guards to the nearest room, Ken mumbling incoherently. No-one else spoke.

The door to the stairwell was closed and it was just a matter of waiting. Their weapons were limited: Scarrow's pistol, one explosive flask-bomb, a rail pistol that they could not use and the spears from Ken and Larry. The former was coming to but remained groggy.

Crouched in a side room, Chloe-mom looked at her but they had to be ready for the mercenaries to burst through the door. Besides, there was little to say that had not already been said. Emma put her hand over her heart and Chloe-mom did the same.

Then they heard the whine of a rail gun just outside the stairwell door. The entrance shattered and the concussive force almost knocked her back. Emma hurled her grenade from the doorway of the side room. There was a blinding flash that left after-images on her irises. Screaming was abruptly curtailed by a second explosion that took the remainder of the fire exit door off its hinges.

"Hit them," Luna ordered, his voice muted by tinnitus, but waited for Chloe's nod and they were charging forward, even Ken, who could barely walk straight. Back through the doorway into the stairwell. Chloe fired twice then swore. Emma nearly speared the same figure her mother had shot, a man wearing an intact red coverall and crouched with a rail gun in his hands. The man appeared uninjured, other than the two bullet holes Chloe had put in his chest, but had apparently already died.

White fire still burned through two more dead mercenaries but there were none alive.

"I'm going up," Luna decided. "I might be able to get another in this." He indicated the suit he was now wearing.

"One moment," Chloe told him and smeared soot onto the hood as recognition paint. She seemed about to say something and instead clasped his wrist. Luna did the same back then turned to go up.

"Wait," Emma said, halting him. Even in the suit, she detected his impatience to get on with what was likely to be a suicidal attack on the mercenaries. "If the weapons are gene-coded, how are they fired in suits?" She dashed into the sub-basement two corridor, picked up the rail pistol and chucked it to him. Luna caught it awkwardly then squeezed the lever and the weapon began its high-pitched whine before recoiling and sending a slug into the ceiling near sub-basement one.

Chloe grinned at Emma and Luna gave a thumbs-up in the suit.

"That means we can get the rifle too," Luna said, removing the hood, and they walked down to sub-basement three. As they did so, it occurred to Emma that had Scarrow got the suit on first, the pistol would have fired and killed her mom. If the notion occurred to Chloe, she gave no indication.

Two Wardens were at the bottom.

"Grief, chief, we nearly shot you," one commented. Emma noted the honorific and Luna had clearly suborned their loyalty from the now dead Tyler Scarrow. The woman was holding a rail gun.

"That weird IT girl got it working," she added, tapping the weapon.

Osira appeared from out of one of the rooms, listed as S301, carrying the other rail gun. She seemed completely unsurprised to see them. After the battle at the doorway to sub-basement two, Emma felt exhausted.

"How's Max-mom?" she asked.

"Sleeping," the female Warden answered and snorted.

"She saved us all," Luna stated in response to the distain in the woman's tone. "I don't get how but if Caulfield needs to recover then make sure she can."

Emma and Chloe looked at him but said nothing. However much they had tried to keep it secret, he had clearly figured Max had some ability beyond transporting them to Telkia.

"Sorry, chief," the woman acknowledged and nodded to Chloe as well. "Just envious."

"Well, I hope you're awake enough because we are going to go up and take the vehicle that's parked up there," Luna said.

Osira handed the rail gun she was cradling to the other Warden. A pair of researchers brought improvised grenades and handed them to Chloe and Emma.

"We lost one," the first said.

"These and one more, then?" Chloe checked and got a nod.

"After that, its acid we've been distilling," the researcher told her. Even to Emma, the man looked young.

"We held them off with sticks and eight bullets," Chloe said. "This should be easy."

"You should stay here with your woman," Luna told her.

"And miss you shoot these bastards?" Chloe responded but was then serious. "'My woman's' only hope is that vehicle. Oz, we need you too. Emma…"

Chloe stalled, clearly torn between wanting to keep her safe and ordering Emma to avoid what she had to do.

"Someone has to keep you out of trouble," Emma interjected, taking the decision from Chloe-mom.

"Come on, let's kick these uninvited guests out," Chloe declared.

SEVEN

Chloe went upstairs behind Luna and the other two Wardens. She wanted to hate them, to distrust them, to think only of them like Scarrow. Yet they had proved themselves. Maybe it was self-preservation but they had stuck with her. Luna could easily have used their greater strength to take control but was now the spearhead to attack the mercenaries.

Emma was at her side, making Chloe scared and proud in equal measure. They climbed without speaking past sub-basement two, stepping in blood and dust, past Scarrow and the dead mercenaries. The walls were blackened with soot and pock-marked with holes. Some of the emergency lighting had been destroyed but there was a brilliant white flame still burning from Emma's last grenade.

Osira, perhaps the most important of those present, brought up the rear and checked the rail guns on the corpses. She discarded two but took the third.

Back to sub-basement one, relatively unscathed. The door out of the stairwell was still intact, the mid-grey walls showing only light damage. Chloe peered up the stairwell, hearing voices from the above ground levels. They reached the shattered door to the lobby, Luna peering in and holding one finger up. He settled the hood onto his head and walked out.

Above, the distorted voices continued, only their harshness discernable. The thud from a rail gun sounded again.

Then another much closer, followed by a second, the two Wardens dashing out. A third and fourth sounded and Chloe went out with Emma, the Wardens, Horizons staff then Osira at the back.

The wind was not blowing sand in, meaning they were relatively safe from radiation, despite nearly the whole of the building's front being smashed in. Almost filling the lobby, the vehicle's top was only a couple of inches from the reception's ceiling. A mercenary was dead against one of the four wheels facing them, in a sitting position with his legs out straight and gun lying nearby. Luna was scrambling off the floor.

"He knew I wasn't one of them," he said, clutching his side. "Fuck, that hurts," he added. "What now?"

"Oz, you're up," Chloe said. "We defend the stairwell. Shoot them as they come out."

"What if they go past? Go downstairs?" one of the other Wardens queried.

"We're gambling that they don't," Chloe answered. Larry and Ken were downstairs still but she did not fancy their chances if the heavily armed mercenaries got to them. Osira was already working on the door to vehicle but then she stopped and turned around.

"Warden Luna, please try pressing your hand against the door," Osira requested and Luna hobbled over, dripping blood. He pressed his hand, enclosed by the rad-suit, against the door and it swung up.

"That was easy," Luna said, suspiciously.

"Probably off-the-shelf gear," Osira commented, with a degree of superiority. "The equivalent of your 'plug and play'. Unless they have a tech, the chances are they won't have changed the settings too much."

She climbed into the vehicle. Chloe and the others walked to the side of it and peered in. It felt even bigger internally, with seats for ten suited troops and two more at the front plus all their equipment. Osira was already at the front, poking around the dashboard and bringing out a small tool kit.

"Will they be killing those upstairs?" the female Warden asked, sounding indifferent but at least two of her colleagues were up there. "Why did they even come back?"

"Slaves," Chloe answered. "Of course, they're not technically slaves but there are a lot of healthy, unregistered people here who have no means of supporting themselves. If they're lucky, they'll pick up manual or, maybe, tech jobs for food and a roof. If not… well, probably better dead."

Chloe looked at Luna, who nodded. Despite everything, it irked her that they thought the same. Maybe it was a left over from his colleagues waterboarding her and forcing Emma and Max to watch or that he was a thug-in-a-uniform that she so loathed but Chloe wanted to dislike him. Instead:

"Help me get the body out of sight," she told one of the other Wardens. "Change of plan: we'll hide in here and surprise them. When the vehicle door opens, pick your targets carefully."

Osira tutted from the front, although it was apparently prompted by something on the vehicle's settings.

Chloe and the male warden dragged the corpse outside the vehicle to behind the reception desk and raced back to the vehicle. It sounded as though things were quieting upstairs. The pair of them leapt into the machine. Chloe nodded to Luna, who was being patched up by the female Warden and he punched a panel. The door rapidly shut.

"Ah!" Osira said. "The silver band around their heads. I need one."

"You're…" Chloe began then just shook her head as Osira went back to work and Luna hit the panel again.

"I'll go," Emma said and was out before Chloe could think of a reason why she should not, other than the infinite love she had for her daughter.

Chloe picked up a rail gun modified by Osira and pointed it at the door to the stairwell but her attention was on Emma sprinting to the reception desk. Red hair flowing behind her, Emma vaulted over the counter, was out of sight for a few seconds that felt like countless minutes, then ran back. The silver circlet from the mercenary's corpse was in her hand like treasure snatched from a dragon. Chloe stared down the sights of the gun, hand over the lever to fire it as soon as the door to the stairwell opened.

Emma jumped into the vehicle and handed the circle to Osira. Luna hit the door closed again and the light within turned to red. Chloe looked at Emma for a moment then wordlessly hugged her tight.

Behind her daughter, Osira was studying the circlet then placed it over her head, the silver contrasting with the black of her hair. The int-soft specialist tapped it and the metal shrunk to fit her smaller skull, she then stared about before going back to tinkering with a distracted: "they are coming. Perhaps a minute. Ah, that's interesting."

They sat and waited in silence.

"I don't suppose they have any food," Chloe pondered, more from nervousness than anything. They were about to kill or die or both. Her mouth felt dry.

The door swung up.

"Surprise," said Luna and this time the rail guns were in their hands.

There were six mercenaries, indistinguishable from each other in their red rad suits, hoarding a dozen prisoners from upstairs.

Chloe pointed the gun and pressed the lever. A half second's whine and then the gun kicked in her hands and the suited man in front of her died. More mercenaries died, with Luna and the other armed Warden firing. The closest took several hits, the Bright Horizons people scattered and blocked shots. One woman went down to a rail gun slug aimed at the vehicle.

"We can't let them get to cover," Luna warned. It was very tempting to stay in the vehicle but he was correct.

"Emma, stay here. Let's go," Chloe agreed while people were running in all directions.

She leapt out, nearly fired when Ellie Hill, the administrator from upstairs ran through her line of sight. The woman span and fell as a rail gun slug from a mercenary hit her and Chloe noted two more mercenaries in the doorway to the stairwell. Beside her, the Warden woman was blasted from her feet.

Luna shot her killer. Chloe followed the Warden to the reception desk where another mercenary turned to face them. Luna, Chloe and the remaining Warden man fired almost simultaneously and his torso almost disintegrated. Only behind the counter did she realise Emma had followed them despite being armed with only a flask-grenade.

The vehicle they had left reversed out of the lobby, giving her a clear shot to a group of three mercenaries. Emma hurled her grenade at them as they fired on the move, backing out of the building to find new cover. The flasks cracked open, liquid spilled out, fizzed and sparked but did not ignite. A mercenary went down, a bloody hole in his leg. In return, a rail gun slug disintegrated half the counter. Chloe ducked down and noticed the corpse of Kathleen O' Daugherty. Mourning would have to come later, if she was alive herself.

"We need to retreat towards the back door," Luna told her and she nodded

"Enough!" boomed a voice, enhanced by some mechanism in the camouflaged rad-suits.

Chloe glanced at the entranceway to the stairwell and saw a mercenary with Fitzpatrick as a hostage. The firing died down. Veddan, she guessed. He slit the struggling scientist's throat and tossed her aside, blood gushing from the wound, shock clear on her face. Before Chloe could fire, another woman was forward from behind him. Darla Mitchell, the secretary. Perhaps it was chance but she suspected he was working down from the oldest and least valuable. She struggled in vain to find an angle she could use in negotiation.

"We can't surrender," Luna stated. There was no sign of Max but how long before they found her? Besides, all these people were her responsibility.

"If you don't come out, I will gut these people one at a time and then we will resume shooting," Veddan called.

"Crawl back to the rear," Chloe instructed. "Try to get to Osira and the vehicle." Osira would not abandon them, although she had enough doubt to need to reassure herself.

"Fine," she shouted, threw out her rail and stood up. Veddan and a mercenary behind him pointed rail pistols at her, although the leader kept tight grip on his hostage.

A series of shots rang out, so close together it was more like a continuous ripping sound.

The leader, his henchman behind the wall in the stairwell and a mercenary she had not even seen instantly died. One moment they were stood, the next, their heads had been destroyed.

Mitchell stood shaking, too shocked to even scream. Chloe felt barely better. She looked outside from where the shots had come but could not see anything else.

Osira's voice, almost surreally calm when Chloe felt like throwing up from the relief, came over a speaker.

"Three hostiles remain in the building but I suspect they will surrender. The vehicle has a retractable weapon sufficient to deal with them if they refuse. I will remain out here until the vehicle's firepower is no longer required."

Emma and Luna stood up from behind the counter, the former coming to hug her. The latter leaned on the undamaged piece of counter as though it was the only thing holding him up.

EIGHT

Max woke to the smell of soup and thought for a minute that she was dreaming, some cruel fantasy brought about by hunger. Blinking awake, she saw Chloe, Emma, Osira and a man she did not recognize.

"You slept through the good bits, Max, my love," Chloe told her. "This is Obix in a new shell. He brought help and food, although his timing was a little off.

"Obtaining the necessary assistance proved complicated, Mistress Chloe," the altered Obix objected.

"How bad was it?" Max asked and Chloe's face clouded, looking down.

"Bad. We're going to have a mass funeral. Many of the Wardens, a quarter of the Horizons, including Fitzpatrick. Bastard Calderwell survived by going up to the damaged third floor and hiding. The top floors… they executed Bortz, shot a few others out of hand."

"I did this," Max whispered.

Chloe put her arm around Max's shoulders, handing her a mug with soup in it.

"Drink," Chloe instructed. "Yes, your power brought us back here," she said, "but Calderwell forced you into it and the mercenary band was nothing to do with you. Your ability to rewind time saved us, gave us the chance to get their guns and turn them on the mercenaries."

Max nodded and even sipped at the soup, feeling like life was pouring into her, a dead husk returning to the world. Her stomach rumbled in appreciation and gluttonous urging for more. Yet the weight of the deaths hung heavy with her.

Perhaps sensing Max's guilt, Chloe turned to Obix to distract her.

"Obe, tell us how you brought help," Chloe requested. "Grief, I can't get used to your new face."

"None of my soft-int altered," Obix commented and Max noticed Osira looking at him askance. "There was a storm, which would have caught this building. After, the sky was clear and I was able to use the visible constellations to calculate my position. I drove to Dead Star Station but no-one would help. I continued to Junyo Fort yet there was only one person willing to assist but then a mech heard. As it is our duty to help humans whose lives are in danger, I decided to enlist their support instead.

"Some would not, which is not understandable. Coming here required the other mechs and I to steal the required items and we must return as much as can. However, the need to save life surpasses all other requirements."

Max noticed Osira studying the mech as though trying to read his soft-int without the aid of a diagnostics tool. Obix ceased speaking, apparently concluding the tale at that point as his presence negated the need to say he successfully returned.

"Obe, we really have to work on your story-telling skills," Chloe told the mech, who looked at her puzzled and very reminiscent of his previous appearance.

"I can add a sub-routine to improve his oration," Osira commented and Chloe held out her hands in exasperation at the soft-int specialist not understanding her desire for it to be an organic learning process.

Despite her guilt, Max smiled as she drank more of the soup.

"We cannot linger if we wish the other mechs to assist our journey," Obix commented. "They have delivered food, medicine, water, rad-suits and other necessities. Only the possibility that they would have to make this journey again is preventing them turning around and returning to Junyo Fort. Three have already gone."

Chloe looked across to Emma, who smiled wryly and declared: "Road trip."

57


End file.
